


As Long As You Do

by AnnoaThiem



Category: Tennis RPF
Genre: Blossoming relationship, Fluff, Friendship/Love, M/M, Male Slash, soft smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2019-06-18 06:51:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15480006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnoaThiem/pseuds/AnnoaThiem
Summary: Stuttgart, June 2015.Dominic knows it for a fact now: he has fallen in love with Sascha. What he doesn't know is if the feeling is mutual. If he's ever going to tell him. If their relationship could survive such a major upheaval. Plenty of frightening questions getting in the way of his grass season preparation. Luckily, Sascha is unable to leave anything unspoken for too long, even when he tries to.





	1. SERVE AND AIM

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. If you've read [**When Home Feels Unsafe**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14214168), this fic is sort of a prequel, taking place three years earlier.  
>  2\. There will be 7 parts, each of them longer than the previous one.  
> 3\. English isn't my first language, so please overlook mistakes and misuses of words.

Saturday, 11am.

 

It had been two months since the week Dominic had spent in Hamburg with Sascha, training and practicing, but mainly relaxing and enjoying activities they usually had no time for anymore. Two months since the science fair they had attended and the revolution that had shaken his entire being. Two months, and Dominic was left wondering if he hadn't made it all up.  
Not his own feelings. No, they were real, vivid and terrifying, keeping him awake at night and twisting his stomach in the most inappropriate of moments. But his certainty regarding Sascha's had quickly turned into a vague possibility and, on this Saturday morning, two months later, they just felt like a complete fruit of his imagination.  
Back then, in the conference room, overwhelmed by the realization he had fallen in love with his friend, blinded by Sascha's smiles and endearing gazes, he had been sure. It had made no doubt, in Dominic's heart and mind, that their feelings were mutual. All the dots were connecting, everything Sascha had done or said over the past few days was making more sense, now that he was reading the week in a new light. But that light may have been too bright, too misleading. Soon after, he had found himself in the dark. During the following twenty-four hours, Sascha had been less affectionate. At least less affectionate that Dominic needed him to be, now that his heart was racing whenever they would brush past each other. And Irina had barely left them alone. When the time had come for Dominic to climb in a cab, Sascha had just hugged him, messed his hair up and said "Show them who the Prince is, okay? I'll see you on the other side of the clay season."  
Dominic had failed at showing anything to anyone and had spent those two months in a permanent state of frustration and impatience. Due to his tennis performances and his incapacity at properly communicating with Sascha. Not that he had ever been good at texting, but second guessing every single one of his messages, in fear Sascha would read too much or too little into them, had just turned his attempts into plain and feeling-free comments about his daily life. As for Sascha, he had been terrible at replying. More than usual. He had been busy, of course, between the challenger tournaments and the heavy fitness training program his dad had imposed on him. But also, he had discovered that Native Americans would only speak when necessary, never just to be nice or polite, and he had decided to apply the same rule _"Don't want to waste my time on boring conversations anymore"_. Apparently, Dominic's messages had been pretty boring as half of them had been left unanswered.  
"Can you focus?"  
Dominic looked up to find Günter's disapproving face on this other side of the tennis court.  
"I am focused."  
"On missing?"  
He pointed at the three plastic cones spread alongside the service line in front of him. For the past couple of minutes, Dominic had been serving, trying to knock them over. Unsuccessfully.  
"I'm sorry… I'm just… I'm--"  
"Completely unfocused."  
"Can we take a really short break and then start the drill over? I'm… waiting for a text and not knowing if it has arrived is weighting on my mind…"  
Günter raised an eyebrow, in disbelief of what he had just heard, and Dominic smiled, shyly.  
"Full disclosure…"  
His coach stared at him for a moment, then shook his head.  
"Thirty seconds."  
"One minute please, I'm also thirsty."  
Dominic heard Günter grumble, but he knew it was perfunctory. He was being a bad student rarely enough to get away with it. He jogged to the bench and grabbed his phone from the side pocket of his bag, to back his lie. But he wasn't waiting for a text. He had received it forty-eight hours earlier. What he was waiting for, hoping for, searching for when trying to hit plastic cones, was a hint on how to read its last sentence. _"Domi! I've been given a wild card for Stuttgart! I'm so excited! I'll be there on Saturday afternoon. I can't wait to see you, you have no idea"_. After an hour spent typing and erasing ten different variations of _"Oh my god, me too!"_ , Dominic had finally just replied _"Amazing!"_ with a thumb up and a party emoji. Lame, boring, unworthy of an answer, but safer. Because he had, indeed, no idea, not a single clue what Sascha truly meant. Dominic had reached the point where his reason was telling him their relationship was and would remain friendship. Prior to Hamburg, "I can't wait to see you" would have just felt like a natural manifestation of Sascha's affection. But in Dominic's dreams, where that affection was rounded out with attraction, it could mean so much more. It could mean everything.  
He had a foot in each camp and was losing his sanity. And his ability to serve.  
"Time's up."  
Dominic put the lid back on his bottle and threw it in his bag before walking back on court.  
"Did you get it?"  
"What?"  
"Your very important text?"  
"Yeah, I did…"  
"Good. Serve and aim now."  
Günter's complete disregard for his personal issues, during practices, was sometimes getting on his nerves, but that morning, he didn't mind his indifference regarding the who and what his made up text was about.  
He took his place back behind the baseline, a couple of balls from the basket next to him and a long and deep breath in. He stared at the cones and glued his messed up feelings onto them. His first attempt sent the middle one flying towards Günter who had to step aside not to get hit.  
"That's more like it."  
Dominic smiled, threw a new ball in the air and raised his racket above his head.  
"My god! You're Thiem, aren't you?!"  
He lost his balance and the ball went straight into the net.  
"Oh. Nop', sorry, my bad. I had you confused with a good player I know."  
Once back on his two feet, Dominic froze and his heart started beating dangerously faster. Sascha was approaching, a proud grin on his face, wearing sunglasses and a white tee-shirt that made him look more tanned than he actually was.  
"Alexander, do you mind? We're in the middle of an exercise here."  
"Oh come on, Günter…"  
Sascha jumped the low wall surrounding the practice court.  
"You know you've missed me and want a hug!"  
He took two steps in the coach's direction, his arms spread open, but when Günter folded his, his face tensed with exasperation, Sascha spun around.  
"Okaaay, maybe not… But your protégé probably wants one, so I'll just be a minute."  
He removed his glasses and walked on the other side of the net, his grin turning into a soft smile. Dominic placed his racket in the basket, wiped his clammy hands on his shorts and cleared his throat, as discreetly as possible.  
"I thought you said Saturday afternoon."  
"I did, but what do I really know about logistics, uh? We just arrived. We were sorting out my practice schedule when I spotted your pretty face through the window. So I left dad at the front desk and thought I would come and fuel Günter's hatred towards me."  
"Günter doesn't hate you." Dominic replied, trying to ignore the fact he had just been called "pretty" and was enjoying it way more than he should have.  
Sascha glanced quickly over his shoulder and wrinkled his nose.  
"Well, he sure does a great job at pretending, then."  
"It's not just you. He's mad at me."  
"Yeah? What have you done?"  
He stopped, a bit closer to him than necessary, a mocking glow in his blue eyes, and Dominic shrugged weakly, unable and unwilling to come up with a credible lie.  
"Doesn't matter."  
"Hum, alright… Anyway, come here, bring it on!" he smiled, placing his hand on Dominic's shoulder. "Our seconds are numbered."  
"I'm sweaty."  
"Story of our lives, isn't it?"  
Dominic chuckled and didn't fight the embrace. When his nose met Sascha's neck, he hardly refrained from inhaling deeply.  
"Hey…" Sascha whispered.  
"Hi…"  
"Why are you so tensed?"  
For a second, Dominic considered denying, but he could feel how stiffened his arms were around Sascha's waist.  
"I'm… a bit stressed out."  
"How come?"  
"Hum… You know… The clay-to-grass transition. Never a fun time."  
Sascha untightened his grip and when their eyes met again, he tilted his head.  
"You'll do great."  
"I'm not too sure."  
"You will. Especially now that I'm here to arouse you."  
"Guys! Break it off or I ace you apart!"  
Sascha jumped aside and never had Dominic been more grateful for Günter's impatience. Intentional or not, Sascha's choice of word had just lit a blaze in his belly and the heat wave was already blushing his cheeks.  
"You can ace without a racket? Wow, you're good. I might hire you."  
"Oh Alexander, my boy, there's no amount of money on Earth that would make it worth the nightmare training you must be. Now, get out of my practice court. Please."  
Sascha laughed, but obeyed and walked backwards while pointing a finger at the coach.  
"Your loss, Günter. Your loss. Just you wait…"  
"I'll live with the regrets."  
"See. He hates me."  
Sascha turned to face Dominic again with a fake heartbroken wince.  
"Come on, just go…"  
Dominic needed him to. The sooner Sascha would be out of his sight, the sooner he could regain control of his body and hope to carry on with the practice without driving Günter to quit on him. But he forced a smile so Sascha wouldn't take offence and Sascha smiled back, far from being offended.  
"Later?"  
"Sure…"  
"I've got so much to tell you."  
He lifted himself up to seat on the wall and added, just moving his lips, without producing a sound:  
"I met a girl."  
Dominic raised his thumb up and clenched his jaws, so hard he could have broken a couple of teeth. Sascha threw his legs on the other side, sent a kiss to Günter and scampered away, his wavy hair golden in the sunshine.  
"Can we get back to it, now?"  
"Oh yes. Yes, we can."  
Dominic grabbed his racket and a ball. Once again, he stared at the plastic cones and this time, he mentally glued his own stupidity onto them. The second he stroke the ball, he knew he was going to hit the corner one. And he did. Which was surprising, considering he had just closed his eyes, shining from bitter tears.


	2. TRUTHFULNESS

Saturday, 7pm.

 

Dominic had heard Sascha enter the players' lounge and, unable to sneak out unnoticeably, he had sunk in the sofa, enough for his hair not to poke out over the backrest. Staring at his phone, where he had paused his football game, he was feeling uncomfortable, pathetic and very anxious. Sascha was having a chat with Borna Coric, next to the foosball table, but he could get bored at any second. If he were to advance in the room, he would undoubtedly notice him.  
Dominic had managed to avoid him all afternoon, which had been pretty easy considering he had spent most of it practicing on an external court. But for some reason he had been too distracted to take in, Günter had decided to stop by the complex before heading back to the hotel. Certain Sascha would have been gone by now, Dominic had made his way to the lounge, to relax quietly while waiting for his coach. But being wrong was apparently his new thing and he was now trapped, praying for Borna to remain entertaining until Günter's return.  
He wasn't ready to face Sascha, to listen to the tales about his dating life, to fake smiles and enthusiasm. He knew his eyes would give his distress away and Sascha would grill him to find out the reason behind it. Dominic needed more time to swallow the pain and the disappointment. He would get over it, eventually, enough to pull the wool over and be a supportive friend. Then he would get over Sascha. A victory could help. Or a girl. Or both. Plus a bottle of his grand-mother's plum liquor and a massive knock at the back of his head. He wasn't sure yet what it would take, but he would find a way. He had to.  
But for now, his one-sided feelings were heaving on his mind and there was nothing he could do. Apart from avoiding him.  
Unfortunately, Borna was way too reserved for Sascha's liking and Dominic could sense in his tone that the conversation wasn't going to last much longer. He got a glimmer of hope when he heard him say "Okay, my father is probably wondering where I am…" but he quickly added "I was just hoping to find Domi here". And despite his immediate silent promise to the gods to never sin again if Borna were to keep his mouth shut, Borna replied "Thiem? He's right over there."  
Dominic hardly held a desperate whimper back and hastened to put his headphones over his ears and resume his video game. He bit his lip and sent one of his players running towards the wrong goal.  
"There you are!"  
Sascha pressed his shoulders from behind so, at least, Dominic's jolt of surprise wasn't feigned. He paused the game again and turned his head to watch him walk around the sofa.  
"What?"  
He removed his headphones and Sascha raised an eyebrow, discovering his position.  
"Were you sleeping or hiding?"  
"Why would I be hiding?"  
"Coz' you're an asocial person?"  
Dominic rolled his eyes then glanced aside, as if interested on who else was still in the lounge. Sascha looked handsome, wearing his prescription glasses and a grey jumper, and the sight was already twisting his stomach.  
"I'm just waiting for Günter. Not sure where he went."  
"I know where he is. He's answering questions for that rude French journalist. My dad is next on her list, hence why I'm stuck here."  
He let himself fall on the sofa and Dominic straightened up, using the motion to put a vital distance between them.  
"Which rude French journalist? There are quite a few of them."  
"The bitchy one who's hot for Novak."  
"Don't think I know her."  
"Lucky you. Anyway!"  
He turned on his side to face Dominic.  
"I've been looking for you since they announced the draw!"  
"Why?"  
"To moan and curse! It's bullshit!"  
"Hum… You got a qualifier. That's pretty lucky."  
"I'm not talking about my draw, dumbass."  
"Oh. Right…"  
Dominic let out a nervous laugh and looked back down at his phone, to close a couple of apps, the time to find some composure. He had been trying his hardest to postpone the minute he would start freaking out about his first round match and, too worried about what stories Sascha could break his heart with, he hadn't realized it would naturally be the first topic his friend would bring up.  
"This sucks so bad!"  
"Well, draws usually suck unless you're seed one or two so…"  
"No, but come on! Thirty-two players and you had to face my brother?!"  
Sascha hit one of the cushions and Dominic shrugged.  
"Don't yell at me. It's not like I had any say on the matter."  
"I'm not yelling. I'm just… upset. It's upsetting. I'm… I'm really sorry, Domi…"  
He tilted his head with a sigh and placed his hand on Dominic's wrist to press it gently.   
"Don't be…" he replied in a hoarse voice, flinching and drawing back immediately to free himself. "It's okay, I understand. Blood comes first. You can cheer for Mischa, I won't hold it against you."  
Sascha frowned, staring at his hand which had fallen on the sofa, obviously puzzled by Dominic's defensive body language. But after a couple of seconds, clearing out a misunderstanding seemed to prevail over his concern. He kept frowning, but smiled, sarcastically.  
"It's really sweet of you to give me permission and absolution for something I would have done anyway, but… I wasn't apologizing for not supporting you… I was--"  
"You weren't apologizing, period."  
Suddenly, it felt like Dominic had just eaten something really distasteful and he recoiled, a bit further away from him.  
"You were pitying me."  
"Hum, no… Pity is way too strong of a--"  
"You don't think I stand a chance, do you?"  
Dominic jumped on his feet, a wave of bitterness rushing through his veins.   
"Against Mischa? On grass? In Germany? No, I don't think you do…"  
"Wow. Thanks for the vote of confidence. It helps a lot. It's great that you came to… arouse me or something!"  
Dominic turned around, his fists clenched, and walked away, across the room where he realized they were now left alone in.  
"Wow yourself! Overreacting much?!"  
Of course Dominic was. In other circumstances, he would have pretended to be outraged, just for the sake of it, then argued he was going to prove him wrong. Of course his current resentment had not much to do with Sascha's blunt honesty.  
"Come on, Domi. Don't go… What's the matter with you? Hey! I'm talking to you. Stay here!"  
Sascha's tone became imperative and Dominic pushed the swing door, but turned around, a hand on the panel, a finger pointed at Sascha, who was following him.  
"Don't command me! Who do you think you are?" he hissed, now boiling from an irrational anger.  
Sascha stopped, a couple of meters away, and his offended expression morphed into a shocked one.  
"Oh my god, you're super mad!"  
"No shit!"  
"But why?! I was just…"  
Sascha's eyes shifted to the side, behind Dominic, and he cleared his throat before smiling, a bit tensed. Feliciano Lopez was crossing the hall to exit the building, looking at them, intrigued.  
"Good evening…" he said, with a little nod.  
Dominic nodded back, his lips pinched, breathing in and out deeply.  
"Hi..." Sascha replied, before sighing, when he was sure Feliciano couldn't hear him anymore "Gosh, I want to look like him when I grow up."  
Dominic grunted, now annoyed at Sascha for being able to joke, as if the quarrel was already irrelevant. He took a step aside to leave the room and run away from him, totally aware that his emotions were getting out of control. But Sascha grabbed his hand and pulled him back in the lounge.  
"Domi, please, wait…"  
He was pleading this time and when he intertwined their fingers, Dominic found himself absolutely paralyzed, his eyes locked into his, the floor shaking underneath his feet.  
"What's wrong? You're acting weird. I mean… weirder than usual… Since when do you mind my truthfulness?"  
With a bewildered moue, Sascha started stroking his palm, concerned and caring.  
"Your truthfulness?" Dominic repeated in a whisper, his heart stuck in his throat, his brain completely fried. "You want to be truthful…?"  
"I always am! You know it. That's why you love me and the rest of the world thinks I'm a--"  
"Then what's the truth here?"  
"Huh?"  
Sascha wrinkled his nose, baffled.  
"Here?"  
"You and me. Us. This. What is it? What… What do you… I mean…"  
Hit by a horrifying flash of lucidity, Dominic closed his eyes and pulled his hand out abruptly. What was he doing, risking everything out of sudden? Addressing an issue Sascha had probably never thought of as such? Admitting that their relationship was confusing and unsatisfying when Sascha seemed perfectly comfortable about it? Giving his torment away, and so maybe his feelings at the same time? Losing his mind?  
In the stifling silence surrounding them, Dominic had never felt so vulnerable, waiting for the best thing in his life to be torn apart.   
"Depends… What do you want it to be…?"  
Dominic was so caught up in his frightening thoughts process, it took a few seconds for Sascha's question to make sense. When it did, he shuddered and opened his eyes wide. Sascha was fixing him with an unsure look, but he was neither repelled nor surprised. Not even confused. He had obviously seen the conversation coming. He had obviously thought about it. About _this_. Dominic's blood pressure and temperature increased by ten. He shook his head, murmuring:  
"I asked you first…"  
Sascha smiled, weakly but amused, which Dominic found quite inappropriate considering what was at stakes.  
"Answer me."  
"Don't command me, Domi. Who do you think you are?"  
"For god's sake… Just tell me--"  
"Dominic?!"  
He jumped and clenched his jaws, appalled by Günter's dreadful timing. He was calling from the lobby and, as there weren't many places he could come looking for him, Dominic's anxiety turned into proper panic.  
"Please!"  
But Sascha pinched his lips and took a step back. A step that felt like a trench and sent a cold shiver down Dominic's spine.   
"Really…?"  
"It can wait."  
Sascha waved his hand between them and Dominic let out a strained laugh.  
"Hum… Okay. Yeah, sure, you're right… It's not that important. And anyway, first you need to tell me all about this girl you've met."  
Dominic moved aside to push the door again, and shut his eyes, briefly, to get rid of a stinging sensation. He was being childish, he knew it, but he had been through way too many emotions in the spam of just a couple of minutes to silence the frustration he was now drowning in. And the growing impression, that Sascha was more entertained than affected by what could be a turning point in their relationship, was hurtful.  
"There is no girl."  
Dominic had already acknowledged Günter, signing some paperwork at the front desk, but he froze.  
"What?"  
He turned his head slowly to watch Sascha shrug, as if he was stating the obvious.  
"I didn't meet anyone."  
Dominic frowned, and the bitter certainty he was being manipulated took over the relief and hope this announcement should have been filling him with.  
"So you're just playing mind tricks? Screw you then."  
He stepped outside the lounge, letting go of the panel, and blinked a couple of times.  
"Are you hungry?" Günter grinned.  
Dominic was feeling sick and the only thing he was craving for was a sleeping pill that could knock him unconscious and insensitive to anything Sascha related. But he knew the joyful expression on his coach's face. It meant "I had an idea, kid, and you're gonna love it". Dominic had no sleeping pills at his disposal and Günter's good mood was probably the next best thing to clear his mind. So he sunk his nails in the palm Sascha had caressed and forced an enthusiastic smile.  
"I'm starving!"


	3. KIND OF PURPLE

Sunday, 1pm

 

"Okay, slow down now."  
Günter moved his hand closer to the control panel, but Dominic pushed it aside.  
"I still need to unwind."  
"You never will at this rate. That's enough."  
With a firm gesture, Günter decreased the speed of the treadmill. Dominic sighed, but didn't argue, as there was no point to, and adapted his stride and breathing to the new pace.  
"How many coffees did you have this morning?" his coach asked. "You've been a live wire all session."  
"I'll be stuck indoors all afternoon. I need to get rid of all the energy I won't be spending on court."  
"Save some. It'll clear up."  
Günter pressed his shoulder then walked away from the machine, leaving his field of vision.  
It had been pouring down for already three hours. Through the picture window in front of him, Dominic could barely see the courts behind the curtain of rain falling on the complex. Günter was being overoptimistic. It didn't look like they were going to practice anytime soon. So Dominic wouldn't have minded carrying on with weight lifting for a while longer, to keep himself busy and let off some more steam. Unfortunately, this private gym was really popular in cases of bad weather and Günter had only managed to book it for one hour during lunch time.  
"What if it doesn't? Clear up?"  
"Then we'll drive to Rotwildpark for a soaked fitness trail."  
"Really?!"  
"No."  
Dominic was already gushing over the idea so he scowled.  
"Nice… Thanks for that."  
"I wanted confirmation that you're going insane and you gave it to me. So we'll spend the afternoon playing charades and… Oh, hello!"  
With regrets, Dominic pushed a button to lower the speed of the treadmill to a walking one, in order to finish gradually now that his successor had arrived.  
"Hello, Günter. Sorry, we may be a bit early."  
As warm and friendly as it was, Sascha's father's voice drastically cooled the room down and made Dominic's hair stand on end at the back of his neck.  
"No worries, we're almost done."  
"Hi!"  
"Mischa. Sascha…"  
"Colonel Bresnik. How are you doing on this fine crappy day?"  
Sascha's cheerfulness brutally reawakened the anger Dominic had spent one hour soothing. He had been waiting all night and all morning for him to reach out, for a sign that their unfinished conversation was unbearable for the both of them. But Sascha hadn't texted. Sascha seemed in a great mood. Sascha could obviously bear it perfectly and Dominic considered escaping to go on that soaked fitness trail on his own and scream amongst the trees where no one would hear him.  
He turned the machine off, stepped down and grabbed his towel to wipe his face. When he reopened his eyes, Mischa was standing right in front of him, smiling.  
"Hey!"  
Dominic liked and respected Mischa a lot. He was the kind of big brother he was trying to be for Moritz. He had also been a well advised friend on some occasions. But that day, not only was he a stumbling block on Dominic's path to round two, he was also the man who had failed at teaching selflessness to his sibling. So it took a lot of efforts for him to smile back while shaking his hand.  
"Morning… I mean, afternoon… Sorry…"  
Mischa laughed, unaware or not bothered by his unease. Dominic moved aside, making a point of honor at not facing the room, and luckily, Günter came back next to him.  
"I'll go shower, I'll be quick."  
"First, you stretch."  
"I don't need to."  
"You always do, today more than ever. You've overdone it with the barbell. Arms and back. For three minutes. Then shower. I'll go order us lunch."  
"But I'm--"  
"Five minutes."  
Günter turned around, closing a negotiation that had never been one.  
"Alexander, can you please make sure the kid is stretching ? I'm heading out."  
"Oh, I sure will!"  
"I was talking to your father."  
"Damn… See! That'd be less confusing if you were using the affectionate nickname all of my other friends are calling me by!"  
"What friends?" Mischa snorted.  
"Ha. Ha."  
Still facing the window, Dominic moved further aside. He heard the door close behind Günter, then what sounded like the two brothers gently wrestling.  
"Boys! We've only got an hour. Let's get to it. Stretching for you too."  
Dominic placed his hands on the pane, extended one leg behind him and bent the other one. He wished he had some music, to shut his mind away from the Zverevs. But his Ipod was in the locker room. So he started humming a song in his head, like he was sometimes doing on his bench during changes over, and soon he managed to muffle their conversation. He swapped legs and felt a slight discomfort below his shoulder, proving Günter right, as per usual. When he straightened up to move on to another exercise, the reflection in the window startled him. It wasn't that dark outside, but still, he could clearly see the silhouette of Sascha, way too close behind him, standing on one leg, his other knee pressed up against his chest.  
"The room has four corners" he uttered, pulling his elbow above his head. "Care to find your own?"  
"This ugly view is not just for you to enjoy."  
Dominic sighed loudly and closed his eyes, hoping it could make his proximity less disturbing. After a moment of silence, Sascha spoke again in a hushed voice:  
"Listen… I didn't mean to upset you… I was just… testing the water. With my made up girl… I wanted to see how you would react."  
Dominic breathed out through his mouth, stretching his arm stronger than necessary.   
"And okay, I realize it can qualify as a mind trick, but… you mind tricked me too, you know? With your thumb up and your poker face."  
"My poker face?"  
He spun around and Sascha let go of his leg to take a small step back.  
"What poker face?" Dominic whispered, on edge. "I'm an open book!"  
"You're not."  
Sascha came back closer and lowered his eyes for a second, the time to breathe in deeply. Then he looked at him again, with a flicker of a smile.  
"I mean… Yes, you kind of are. It's quite easy to tell what's going on up there."  
He raised his arm to brush Dominic's forehead.  
"But… I'm not sure what's down there."  
His hand fell on Dominic's chest, to press it softly, and the room turned back into an oven. Through the wet fabric of the tee-shirt, Sascha's palm felt like a firebrand and Dominic opened his mouth, but failed at articulating an answer.  
"I didn't tell you to stretch your tongue, Sasch'. Come back here, you're useless and you're distracting Dominic."  
Sascha grumbled, moving backwards immediately. His eyes remained locked onto Dominic's for a few steps, until he faced his father.  
"He's the one distracting me."  
"Yeah, sure…"  
Alexander sniggered and smiled at Dominic, who managed to nod, to thank him for his trust. Then he turned around quickly, convinced the color of his cheeks was going to betray his thoughts. He grabbed his elbow again, to look like he was carrying on with his exercises, but first he had to find a way to regulate his breathing and heart rate.  
Behind him, Sascha and Mischa started throwing a ball at each other, as well as mocking jokes. Dominic could sense their tone but, this time, he didn't need to hum for their words not to reach him. _"I'm not sure what's down there"_ was echoing loudly in his mind, on a loop.  
For a couple of minutes, he randomly did a series of stretching moves, staring at the rain drops running along the window. And eventually, he calmed down, enough to realize he shouldn't have had to. To realize the state Sascha was plunging him into had become ridiculous. The whole situation was ridiculous. He was wasting all of his mental strength playing hide and seek with his emotions instead of focusing on getting ready for the grass season.  
"Are your hands made of soap?" Mischa mocked, out of a sudden.  
"Shut up."  
The ball Sascha had just let go off was rolling on the floor and, without looking, Dominic stopped its course underneath his foot. He picked it up and turned around. Sascha was already approaching to get it back but he stopped, waiting for him to throw it. But Dominic didn't. He walked to Sascha, shoved the ball in his arms and surrendered. He had asked first but, tired of games, he chose to lose this one and murmured:  
"You."  
"Me?"  
"You're what's down there. And also up there. Constantly. And it's annoying the shit out of me."  
He sighed and moved past him.  
"Am I free to go? I've stretched longer than Günter wanted me to."  
"Of course."  
"Thanks. See you guys later…"  
He waved at Mischa and left the gym, feeling more at peace than he had in a long time. Now that he had laid his cards on the table, he was free from half of the pressure which had been weighting on his shoulders ever since the science fair.  
Once in the locker room, he took his tee-shirt off and sat on a bench, his elbows on his knees, his head between his hands. Despite his relief, he knew he wasn't going to avoid a panic attack, as soon as the very likely consequences of what he had just done would become concrete. He was hoping they could hit him now, so he could freak out while alone. But apart from his heart pounding from a late rush of adrenaline, he was still abnormally calm. And he didn't stay alone for too long. He jumped on his feet when Sascha stormed in, slamming the door behind him.  
"What are you doing?"  
"I've told dad I needed… to… Wow, okay."  
Sascha froze and pointed his finger at him.   
"You're all bare-chested and sweaty and… covered with new muscles…"  
"Hum, yeah… Story of our lives, isn't it?"  
"Story of yours, maybe… I don't do new muscles. I try, really hard, but… nothing…"  
"Why did you follow me?" Dominic asked, jittery.  
The way Sascha was looking at his body was bringing his blood to the boil.  
"I… I'm…"  
Sascha shook his head to get a grip on himself and cleared his throat.  
"Officially, I'm taking a leak."  
"And informally… ?"  
"Well, you weren't really expecting me to…"  
He frowned, turned his head bluntly, as if he had heard something on the other side of the door, and Dominic let out a frustrated sigh.  
"My god, this is silly… We can't keep being interrupted."   
Sascha looked back at him and moved a bit closer.  
"I agree."  
"So… we should talk… later… Find a hidden spot where no one will--"  
"I disagree."  
"You disagree?"  
Sascha nodded, resolute, to support his declaration:  
"Talking is overrated. And pointless in most cases. That's why Native Americans never engage in--"  
"Ahhh!" Dominic screamed, bringing his hands together in a desperate gesture. "Who cares about Native Americans?! You're not one of them, okay? You're… You're just a patronizing and impatient spoiled white boy who's… who is…"  
Sascha was walking towards him and Dominic's heart skipped a beat when he stopped, so close that everything around him disappeared.  
"Who's annoying the shit out of you… I got that."  
"Yeah…"  
Dominic swallowed with difficulties, drowning in Sascha's gaze, his knees dangerously unsteady.  
"So anyway, I'm… I'm done talking… We suck at it and… and are you aware your eyes are kind of purple?"  
He tilted his head, but Dominic grabbed it, about to explode, to bring Sascha's nose against his.  
"Gosh, do I really need to do everything here?" he whispered, barely audible.  
Sascha puffed a nervous laugh and slid his hands around his neck. The room started spinning and Dominic closed his eyes.   
At first, their lips only touched lightly, as their chests heaved as one and their grips on each other tightened. For what felt like a short eternity, none of them deepened the contact. Their mouths pressed half opened, their breaths blending, their hearts racing, they remained shy, scared to take the plunge that would irremediably turn their lives upside down. But when Sascha sunk his nails in his skin, it sent a blazing wave through Dominic's veins and he pulled him even closer, an arm around his waist. He parted his lips wilder, brushed his tongue and kissed him, the way he had dreamt of in his stomach-twisting and messed up fantasies. And although the kiss was more clumsy and fast-paced than he had imagined, it didn't just twist his stomach. It wrung his entire body. Dominic had kissed before, he had experienced overwhelming bursts of passion. But he had never felt such a sharp and painful rush of desire. And soon, it became too much to handle. So he recoiled, panting, his temples buzzing. Sascha held on to him tightly and pecked his lips again a couple of times, avid for more, before leaning his forehead against Dominic's.  
"Wow…"  
Dizzy, Dominic had to cling onto his tee-shirt.  
"That's it…" Sascha whispered. "Something like that..."  
"What…?"  
"This… Us… I want it to be something like that…"  
"Oh… Yeah, I… Same…"  
"Okay… But I said it first."  
"Seriously… ?"  
Sascha moved away with a laugh which quickly turned into a cough due to his shortness of breath.  
"I'm not even sure why I like you…" Dominic gasped, opening his eyes, straight into Sascha's feverish ones.  
"As long as you do…"  
Sascha intertwined his fingers in his hair. He took a halting breath in, then pressed his mouth on the corner of Dominic's, but quickly sighed.  
"I need to go… if I don't want dad to behead me… I need to… you know… work on this new muscles thing you're already so good at…"  
Dominic bit his lip, but nodded and released him, slowly, for his hands to stroke his back a little while longer. When Sascha let go of his face, he took an involuntary step back. His thighs met the edge of the bench, so he sat down, worried his legs weren't going to support him much longer. Sascha rubbed his face while walking backwards, then he shrugged with a grin.  
"See… Told you talking was pointless…"  
"Shut up."  
Sascha laughed again and turned around to open the door.  
"Later?" Dominic soughed.  
"I sure hope so…"  
He glanced at him over his shoulder and smiled, so fondly it melted what was left of Dominic's heart. They stared at each other for a few long seconds, then Sascha stepped outside the room, pulling the panel behind him.  
Immediately, Dominic shifted on the side to lie down on the bench, and brought both his hands on his chest. He was in dire need of a cold shower and his minutes were numbered before Günter would give him a call to tell him lunch had arrived. But first, he had to let it sink in, that one of his greatest wishes had just come true. And it was probably going to take him a while.


	4. ROLLERCOASTER

Sunday, 9pm

 

Dominic stepped over a bridge, then over a moat, but almost tripped on the edge of the track and cursed in a low voice. He had decided to take a shortcut across the miniature golf course, instead of following the paths, and it was turning out to be more perilous than he had imagined. The place was closed, empty and getting darker by the minute. The thought of trespassing was exhilarating, but he had to be careful not to twist an ankle or fall on a puddle. The first option would be tragic, the second highly embarrassing.  
He skirted around another track and finally saw the two meters high yellow castle he had been searching for. Sascha was seated on the floor, his back against a rampart, and he turned his head when Dominic broke a branch underneath his foot.  
"So you did get my text…" he smiled, with an ounce of sarcasm.  
"Why else would I be hunting for a fake castle in a restricted area?"  
Sascha raised an eyebrow, amused but pretending to be offended.  
"You didn't reply."  
"See how it feels?"  
"Hey! This one called for an answer. At least for one of your thumbs up."  
"Did it, really?" Dominic frowned, faking reflection. "I mean… "I'll be at the minigolf course at nine, by the castle at the very far end". Felt like a statement. You didn't even bother asking if I was available, you just assumed I--"  
"Alriiiight, alright, point taken." Sascha sighed, smiling again. "I need to work on my manners. But still, you took a huge risk of me not showing up."  
Dominic stopped in front of him and shrugged.  
"I love risk. I'm an adrenaline junkie."  
"Right… And I'm a Swedish pediatric surgeon."  
"Why Swedish?"  
"Why not?"  
Sascha held his hand out and Dominic grabbed it to pull him up. The impetus brought them against each other and Sascha immediately wrapped his arms around his neck, pressing their noses.  
"God kvall…"  
"Huh?"  
"Doesn't it mean 'good evening' in Swedish?"  
"Sure…" Dominic whispered, his ability to care already smothered by the taste of his breath.  
He placed his hands right below the waist band of Sascha's hoodie, and tilted his head up, just enough for their lips to meet. But after a soft and short contact, Sascha chuckled.  
"Just thought of a Swedish joke…?" Dominic asked.  
"No. It's just… I… I've spent a year imagining all sorts of scenarios of us making out, but… none of them involved bats and a creepy fairytale castle."  
"Hum… Okay. One, you chose the location. Two, what bats? And three… A year…?"  
His pulse started racing and he tried to move further apart, but Sascha held him back.  
"One, I had forgotten how spooky this thing looked. Two, I'm pretty sure there are bats in those trees…"  
Dominic flinched and looked up, but Sascha slid his hands in his hair to bring his eyes back into his.  
"Three… A year, yes. Twelve months, you clueless Austrian piece of--"  
Dominic kissed him, his fear of bats suddenly buried underneath the importance of Sascha's revelation, in the same ditch than all the insane questions that had burst his bubble of bliss during the afternoon.   
The lasting rain had given him way too much time to over think. And the frightening certainty that he had just become irremediably addicted to Sascha and wouldn't cope with a heartbreak anymore, had turned his brain into a sadistic persecutor. At first, he had wondered how much Sascha was into him, if he wasn't just a fling or a challenge to complete. Two hours later, when Günter had picked him up because the courts were finally dry enough, Dominic had convinced himself it was all just a scheme to mess him up and ensure Mischa's victory. It was only after the text that he had managed to get a grip on himself, shut his twisted thoughts off and practice efficiently. So learning that Sascha had wanted this, wanted him, for so long, wasn't just a relief. It was a weapon against all the paranoiac crisis to come, the key to feeling nothing but happiness and excitement.   
And so it was flowing in, as their kiss was lingering and deepening, more confident than in the locker room. Sascha's hands were stroking his back, pressing their bodies against each other, and Dominic was hardly refraining from sliding his underneath the hoodie, longing for the touch of his skin, hit by new strikes of overpowering desire.   
He had completely forgotten where they were and yet, despite the revelation, the happiness and the desire, a loud rustle of leaves above their heads made him snap out of it and jump backwards. He stepped on the slope of the track and Sascha barely caught hold of him when he lost his balance.  
"My god…" he laughed, breathlessly, pulling him back between his arms. "I didn't know you were… bat phobic."  
"It's called… chiroptorophobia and… I'm not…" Dominic panted, searching for the origin of the noise, his heart now beating erratically for two very different reasons.  
"I see… Learning scientific names of phobias is a secret passion of yours?"  
"I just… find them really gross… They land on people's head and get stuck in their hair."  
"They do?"  
Sascha wrinkled his nose and looked up, suddenly wary.  
"Okay, let's move… there."  
He pointed at a bench, ten meters away, and released Dominic who stepped aside quickly, eager to leave the cover of the trees. But he remained careful of what was on the floor, doubting he would be lucky enough to avoid a strain twice in a row.  
"Hey… While I remember… We can't lose track of time." Sascha sighed behind him. "I've got a curfew."  
"Really?"  
"Half past ten. They haven't really understood the part where I'm an adult in my home country."  
"Let them get used to it. You've been an adult for like five minutes."  
Sascha grabbed his waist to pinch it gently and Dominic slowed his pace down, to feel his chest against his back and his breathing on his neck.  
"Where did you tell them you were going?"  
"I said I was taking you to the arcade games center. You?"  
"I told Günter I was meeting you here, for an illegal minigolf contest."  
"And seriously?"  
"I'm serious."  
Sascha stopped but Dominic kept walking to the bench.  
"And as expected, he didn't believe it coz' he can't picture me doing something as "wild" as trespassing. So he just shook his head like he didn't really care in the end and told me not to drink."  
He checked that the wood wasn't still wet from the rain and turned around to sit down.  
"That was kind of risky…"  
"Told you. Adrenaline junkie. Except when it comes to bats, as you're about to bring it up."  
Sascha's frown disappeared and he approached with a cheeky smile.  
"That was cute."  
"Right."  
"Really! Plus, I had to save and protect you. I enjoyed that a lot."  
"Is someone having a hero complex…?"  
Dominic looked up and felt a new spike of fever when Sascha squeezed one knee between his thighs and grabbed his face.  
"Maybe…"  
He leant and Dominic clasped his waist. The kiss remained tender, their lips just stroking and grabbing, again and again, but it didn't prevent his mind from going completely blank. So when Sascha moved back, he had to blink a couple of times and sink his feet on the floor to make sure it was still there.  
"Gosh, my back is killing me." Sascha sighed before stepping aside to seat with a moan.  
"Too much weight lifting?"  
Dominic turned and bent one leg on the bench between them, to face him.  
"Practice. I hate grass after rain. It's sloppy so I contract too much not to slip."  
"I feel you… Is Mischa's back troubling him as well?"  
"No, but his knee is still… Wait."  
Sascha opened his eyes wide.  
"Seriously?"  
Dominic pinched his lips a second and laughed.  
"It was worth a try. It almost worked."  
"Okay, but let's not do that. Let's proclaim this topic absolutely off limit, alright? Considering how I offended you yesterday, I think it's safer."  
"Well… My outburst in the lounge wasn't really about your lack of faith in me. It was more about… the girl you didn't meet…"  
"Oh… I see… Hey! Wanna know more about her? I had a full story prepared. She was an Arsenal supporter. Thought it would piss you off."  
"I'm fine, thanks." Dominic smiled, rolling his eyes.  
"Come on. You don't have to be jealous of someone who doesn't exist."  
"I'm not. And… I wasn't yesterday. Jealous. I was… sad and feeling like a proper idiot."  
He shrugged and Sascha squinted, with an apologetic smile.  
"Sorry…"  
He grabbed his hand and leant his shoulder against his chest. Dominic pressed his lips on his temple and whispered:  
"It's okay. I mean, it's okay now."  
Sascha chuckled and Dominic inhaled deeply. He had often made fun of him for spending a ridiculous amount of money on his special hair conditioner, but he had always loved the smell of it.  
For a moment they remained silent. Sascha was playing with his hand, running his thumb along his fingers, one after another. And Dominic was just breathing in and out, his nose in his curls, letting bliss fill up his heart.  
"What are you thinking about?" Sascha finally asked, softly.  
Dominic's mind wasn't really focusing on anything at that very moment, but as vague as his thoughts were, one stood out at the sound of the question.  
"Well, I… You said… It's been a year…?"  
Sascha turned his head to look him in the eyes and raised an eyebrow, sneering.  
"Is it that satisfying to hear that you need me to say it again?"  
"It is, yes, but… mostly it's… confusing… I mean, you called me clueless, but was I, really? Did you give me any clue back then that you were… that you wanted…"  
"That I was secretly day dreaming of putting my hands all over your body?"  
Dominic felt a pinch in his belly and only his curiosity stopped him from making Sascha's dream come true right away. He gulped and nodded, staring at the ballet of their fingers. For a few seconds, Sascha didn't say anything, as if he had expected to brush the topic aside with his provocative answer. But when Dominic squeezed his hand to insist, he sighed:  
"No, I didn't. Not for a long while."  
"Why?"  
"Hum… At first, I had to stop fighting it. I couldn't help but thinking it was wrong."  
"Me being a guy…?"  
"No. You being you. Domi. My Domi. Our bond was too… brotherly, it was disturbing. I thought I was just going through a weird phase due to the void in my romantic life, and hoped it would pass I soon as I would meet someone more attractive than you. But it never happened."  
"You didn't meet anyone?"  
"I met plenty of people."  
Dominic let out a nervous laugh. He wasn't going to refute Sascha's nice declaration, but he couldn't truly believe it. Sascha felt his unease and snickered.  
"We're gonna have to do something about your self-esteem. Or serious lack of."  
"Will you share some of yours?"  
"Haha."  
Sascha pushed him gently and Dominic smiled.  
"Carry on…"  
"Complimenting you?"  
"No… Explaining why you didn't tell me anything."  
"Well, once I had made my peace with the idea, I thought it would be awkward to bring it up when you were going on and on and on about Klara…"  
He rolled his eyes and Dominic winced.  
"Was I…?"  
"Constantly. I was dreading your texts. That's when I became an asshole ignoring half of them. I guess it's the only clue you could have gotten."  
"I'm sorry…"  
Considering the heartache Dominic had felt just thinking Sascha had met someone, he could only imagine how painful it must had been for him hearing about his actual and very real girlfriend.  
"Don't be." Sascha shrugged. "It's not like I did anything to shut you up, as I had no expectations you would make a u-turn."  
"Maybe I would have if I had known…"  
"Would have what?" Sascha frowned. "Spared me the details of your love life or suddenly realized my body was considerably appealing?"  
"Spared you the details..."  
"Oh yeah, okay."  
"But also… Perhaps I--"  
"No."  
Sascha shook his head, firmly.  
"No, Domi. Up until four months ago, the probability of you finding a light buried deep deep inside, if I were to reveal my feelings, was way too low. If not null. Telling you just felt like a… friendship-threatening gamble."  
Dominic took a deep breath in to try and concentrate. To try and imagine how he would have reacted if Sascha had spoken. But he quickly realized he wasn't able to, not objectively, as he was struggling remembering a time when he wasn't obsessed with him.  
"Friendship-threatening, no, but… you're probably right. I wasn't there yet…"  
"I know. That's why I didn't clue you and kept suffering in silence."  
He brought his hand to his chest in a theatrical gesture and Dominic whispered again:  
"I'm sorry…"  
"You should be. Hey, no! Lose the sad puppy face, I'm kidding."  
He brushed his cheek, smiling, but Dominic didn't cheer up, hating the idea he had hurt him unwillingly.  
"It wasn't that awful. I mean, it wasn't fun, but it was bearable. And it got way easier and better when you dumped her, because I became your favorite person again."  
"You think so?" Dominic managed to mock.   
"I know so. And actually, I wonder if it wasn't the other way around."  
"What do you mean?"  
"If you didn't dump her because I had become your favorite person."  
"I… broke up with Klara because I wasn't in love with her anymore."  
"Yes, but why?"  
Sascha abruptly passed one leg over the bench to straddle it, almost knocking Dominic's chin in the process.  
"Alright. Facts!"  
"Alright." Dominic smiled, adopting the same position and placing his hands on Sascha's thighs.   
"You were sickeningly crazy about Klara. She was hot, smart, nice and she clearly had no intention of being just a WAG, which made her kind of flawless. According to your below-the-sea-level confidence, she was way out of your league, but she adored you. And she was doing a great job at showing it without smothering you."  
"Are you trying to make me regret breaking--"  
"Shh! I'm not done! Günter and your family worshiped her. She didn't cheat on you or lie to you or start beating you up. She didn't change out of a sudden. And yet, you fell out of love. Which means--"  
"I changed."  
"That. Or she was lacking the one thing you truly needed."  
Dominic opened his mouth, but just choked on his next breath and felt his face turning bright red. Sascha frowned for a second before gasping:  
"What do you think I implied?!"  
"What do you think I think you implied?!"  
"No! I meant my… my unpredictable awesomeness. You know, my… unnerving but fascinating ability to drive you mad. Klara was too soft. You needed more… adrenaline! Which I'm a great provider of."  
"You truly are. Even when you don't intend to…"  
He pinched his lips together and Sascha laughed, lowering his eyes and blushing slightly.  
"God, let's move on…"  
Dominic shook his head to get rid of some distracting thoughts.  
"I don't know what to tell you… Maybe you've got a point. Maybe your… awesomeness was already running it for everybody else. But if it were the case, I wasn't aware of it. Not consciously. I only understood my feelings had evolved when we were--"  
"In Hamburg. I know. I mean, I thought they had. And so then, I threw clues at you, left and right. But gosh, you were purblind. Or maybe you were going through the "fighting it" phase, which would be fair."  
Sascha smiled, understanding, but Dominic wrinkled his nose.  
"No. That phase came later, when your crappy communication skills led me to believe I had misread all the clues."  
"Hey!"  
Sascha raised a finger between them, severe.  
"I won't deny that I purposely limited our exchanges to the bare minimum, but I had a valid reason to do so."  
"Enlighten me." Dominic smiled, amused by his outrage.  
"Well, as I said, I had imagined a hundred versions of us making out, most of them being about the first time we would. And in none of them, it happened through a phone screen. Hell no! I had waited for a year, I was ready to wait three or six more months for it to be epic. Do you think I was gonna disclose my intentions on Whatsapp? Spoil the thrill those past twenty-four hours have been? Never! Ugh… Come on! We didn't meet on Tinder!"  
He pulled a disgusted face and Dominic grabbed his hand, laughing.  
"Calm down. This is, indeed, a valid reason. And now that I know where the rollercoaster ride was heading, I'm grateful for the… the thrill. I wouldn't trade it for anything."  
"Oh don't be so sure. Some of my scenarios were pretty mind blowing."  
"Still, I keep the locker room one."  
Sascha smiled and Dominic leant towards him with a grin.  
"Now… Those intentions you didn't want to disclose on Whatsapp… Any chance to learn more about it?"  
"Yes! I'm glad we finally got there! Coz' for someone who dislikes talking, I just did a shitload of it."  
He slid his hands underneath Dominic's legs, lifted them up, and pulled him, for his thighs to rest on his. Surprised and thrown off balance, Dominic wrapped an arm around Sascha's neck to not tumble.  
"Luckily, this is a topic I can cover Native American style."  
"Sounds good…" Dominic murmured, his mouth already brushing Sascha's. "You've got about forty-five minutes left. Should be enough."  
"No, it won't be. But I've got to start somewhere…"  
And so Sascha started, with tender pecks on Dominic's lips, his hands gliding up and down his back. But quickly, he moved on to showing him how intensely he had been longing for their kisses and caresses, for the touch, the smell and the taste of his skin. He showed him for forty-five minutes and Dominic understood and approved everything.


	5. FAVORITE SURFACE

Monday, 10pm

 

"Okay, so you rest and relax now."  
"I am relaxed!"  
Dominic bit the inside of his cheeks, regretting the ton he had just used.  
"Quite evidently." Günter frowned.  
"I am, really. But it's the third time you're telling me to relax and… that's stressful."  
"Alright."  
Günter raised his hands, abdicating, and turned around to walk towards the door of the hotel room. Seated on his bed, Dominic remained still, barely breathing, afraid the tiniest movement could stop his coach on his way out.  
"Seven thirty at the front desk?"  
"Yes."  
"Set up your second alarm."  
"Yes."  
"No Xbox tonight."  
"No."  
Günter glanced over his shoulder, so Dominic corrected himself immediately to remain credible.  
"I mean… You know, one or two games, as usual…"  
"More like three or four." Günter grinned while pulling the panel open. "Goodnight."  
"G'night…"  
The second the door closed, Dominic let out a long sigh of relief. He stood up, shaking his head, not sure why he had to go through five minutes of complete and uncalled for panic.  
"My god, does he check on you like that every night?!"  
Sascha emerged from the bathroom, his face slightly red.  
"Only on match nights."  
"I thought he was gonna tuck you in and read you a story. I was dying in there, it's so steamy!" he grumbled, unsticking his tee-shirt from his chest. "How hot of a shower did you have before I arrived?"  
"Why did you feel the need to hide?"  
Sascha had been in his room for only thirty seconds when a knock on the door had sent him running to the bathroom.  
"Whoever that was, it's not abnormal for us to hang out."  
"Don't you think Günter would have kicked me out big time and escorted me back to my floor?"  
Sascha raised an eyebrow and after a second of reflection, Dominic found himself incapable of objecting.  
"Hum, yeah…. He would have let Dennis or Ernest stay for one FIFA game, but not you."  
"I'm being bullied…"  
Sascha pulled a sad face, his lips trembling, but Dominic rolled his eyes.  
"You didn't help your case calling him a dinosaur earlier. You're not doing anything for him to like you."  
"Of course I'm not. I never do, with anyone. Why would Günter be granted that privilege?"  
"Because that could make our lives easier?"  
Sascha wrinkled his nose for a second and then sighed, walking closer.  
"I'll think about it."  
Dominic smiled and pointed at the bathroom with his chin.  
"Were you cleaning in there?"  
"Why would I clean your bathroom?"  
"Like Monica. From _Friends_. Come on, you know, the episode where she's hiding from--"  
"Never watched _Friends_."  
"What?!"  
Dominic opened his eyes wide and Sascha stopped in front of him.  
"It started airing before I was born!"  
"The original _Star Wars_ movies got released before you were born and you know them by heart, so what's your point?"  
"It's… different."  
"How so?"  
"I… don't know. And I don't know how to win this pointless argument. Let's drop it."  
"You're pointless." Dominic laughed, wrapping his arms around his waist.  
"There's something way more important I've been trying to tell you all day." Sascha whispered, grabbing his face.  
"I'm listening…"  
Dominic pulled him and closed his eyes when their lips met. He didn't know if he would ever get used to kissing Sascha, if he would stop feeling a thousand burning pinches through his body at the first touch of their tongues. In any case, he was still miles away from there.  
He had been waiting twelve hours for that embrace. He had seen Sascha at practice, at the gym, in the players' restaurant, during the group interviews organized by the ATP. They had stared at each other across courts and rooms, brushed past in hallways for a few stolen stokes. But their teams hadn't given them any opportunity to be left alone. Not a single one. Even then, finally reunited in his room, they had been robbed from five minutes of peace and kisses by Günter.  
"I'm glad I finally got that off my chest…" Sascha panted, sliding his mouth along Dominic's jaw line. "They drove me mad today…"  
"I know… It was so frustrating. I took it on the balls. Günter claims I broke my serve speed record… We're gonna have to come up with coordinated escape strategies…"  
"Yeah! Secret codes! As if we were a double team." Sascha smiled, moving away to randomly raise his fingers between them. "Bathroom. Five minutes. Come alone."  
"Of course I'd come alone."  
Dominic grabbed his hand to press his lips on his palm and Sascha's shiver sent one down his spine.  
"How long can you stay?"  
Sascha stroke his cheek and sighed.  
"Not long… My curfew is still in place and as I'm sharing my room with Mischa I couldn't pretend I was going to bed. Plus, I… I mean…"  
"What is it?"  
"Well… Don't take it the wrong way…" Sascha winced, hesitant. "But it's… it's match night so…"  
"I know. I agree. Sadly…"  
"I'm quite tired already and I can't screw up this opportunity I've been given to--"  
"I said I agree." Dominic smiled.  
"I'm talking to my inner self. He needs to be convinced. Right now, he thinks you're more appealing than a spot in round two."  
Dominic bit his lip and Sascha leant his chin on his temple.  
"That's because you smell like a trophy."  
"A trophy?"  
"Yeah. Something priceless I worked hard for and could hold forever…"  
Dominic laughed, even though his chest heaved.  
"That's cheesy."  
"Shut up."  
"Okay."  
Dominic lifted his head up to find his mouth and kissed him hard, to make it clear the appeal was mutual. Sascha clenched his hands on his hips and kissed him back, impetuous. He pushed him, forcing him to take small steps back, and Dominic let him, until his legs met the edge of the bed. He tightened his grip around his waist to remain still, but suddenly, Sascha released him and pushed him again, this time too strongly for Dominic to keep his balance. He fell on his back, leaning on his elbows, and shook his head, smiling but his heart pounding.  
"Rude…"  
Sascha shrugged with a grin and placed a knee on the mattress, but Dominic frowned.  
"Wait. What are you doing?"  
"What am I doing…?"  
"Take off your grassy shoes before climbing on my bed."  
Sascha stepped down and raised both his eyebrows.  
"This isn't your bed and those aren't my practice shoes."  
"Still. Manners, Alexander."  
"Alright." he nodded, a provocative smile curving his lips. "Okay then."  
He threw his shoes on the side, staring at him, and abruptly took his tee-shirt off and Dominic's breath away in the process.  
"Bed worthy enough for you?" he asked, spreading his arms open.  
"Hum… Yeah, that will do…" Dominic gulped.  
He breathed in deeply and moved in the middle of the bed. Sascha crawled on top of him, until he could placed his hands on both sides of his head. He kept his arms out straight to look him in the eyes, his hair brushing Dominic's face.  
"Okay… I think we can say our friendship is officially over now…"  
"Hey, that's a _Friends_ quote."  
"Is it? Really?"  
"You didn't just come up with it."  
"I did! I swear. I'm as bright as comedy writers."  
Dominic smiled and blew softly on one of his curls.  
"The answer to it is 'We weren't that close anyway'".  
"What's your answer?"  
"Hum… Something cheesy I guess… That I don't care. I can find other friends, I won't find another you."  
"Of course you won't. There's no one as--".  
"Shut up. Don't ruin it."  
"Okay."  
Sascha laid on him, but pulled himself back up, almost immediately, to straddle Dominic's thighs.  
"What…?"  
"You're not bed worthy enough." he said, very serious, stocking his tee-shirt. "I think this needs to go."  
"As you wish…"  
"My favorite sentence to hear."   
Dominic sat up and raised his arms. The feel of Sascha's fingers sliding underneath the fabric and running slowly up his sides turned his blood into lava. Once shirtless, he fell back on the mattress and grabbed Sascha's forearms to pull him down. But Sascha resisted and freed one of his wrists to place his palm on Dominic's chest.  
"What… ?" he whispered again.  
"I'm… taking a moment to appreciate my new clearance level."  
"Okay…"  
Dominic smiled but closed his eyes, irrationally ill-at-ease with the way Sascha was contemplating his body and scared he could find him coy. He wasn't. He knew he was in the best shape he had ever been. And he couldn't recall how many times Sascha and him had chilled together in their underwear. But this was different. This was the kind of situation where the self-depreciating teenager inside of him would always resurface and there was nothing he could do about it. Fortunately, the way Sascha was drawing abstracts shapes on his chest and his belly quickly made it impossible for his thoughts to remain concrete. Everything became fuzzy except for the certainty he had never wanted someone this badly. Sascha finally laid back on him and slightly moved to the side, sliding one leg between Dominic's, leaning the other one and his forearm on the mattress, leaving just enough space between them to keep caressing him as they started kissing, heatedly. Stroking the muscles of Sascha's back, Dominic could feel both their skin getting clammier by the second. Soon, the kiss deepened into a panting succession of touches, bites and licks, and Sascha began to move against him. Dominic lowered his hands down to his hips, to increase the speed and the pressure of the back and forth, out of touch with any sort of reality, completely spellbound by Sascha's desire rubbing against his thigh. He slid his fingers underneath his shorts and Sascha moaned, before closing his mouth against his and resting his body still. Dominic immediately tried to press him into moving again, but Sascha pushed himself apart to fall on his back next to him.  
"Oh god… We've got to stop…"  
"Do we…?"  
Dominic opened his eyes but the ceiling was spinning, blurry and covered with sparkling spots, so he shut them after just a second.  
"We're too short of time… I don't want anything to be rushed or… left unfinished…"  
Dominic would have argued it was a bit too late for him not to feel like something was going to be left unfinished, but he wasn't capable of articulating a full sentence just yet.  
"Do you agree…?"  
"Hum."  
Sascha pressed his chin against his shoulder.   
"Hum?"  
"I guess…"  
"So you don't…"  
Dominic chuckled softly and brought his palm to his chest, breathing in with difficulties.  
"Well… I… I mean… We might always be rushed… short of time…"  
"We won't."  
Sascha turned on his side and wrapped his arm over Dominic's body to pull him into facing him.  
"We're not great enough yet for all nights to be match nights."  
"Talk for yourself…"  
"Hey!"  
He pinched his waist and Dominic grinned, opening his eyes again to drown into the shinny blue of Sascha's.  
"Confidence seems to be kiss-ually transmissible…"  
"And you could use some more…"  
"Plenty…" Dominic whispered, their lips already brushing.  
He placed his hand on Sascha's neck and squeezed one leg between his knees. It took more self control than he thought he had to not intensify the kiss. He knew Sascha was right, but at this minute, his reason wasn't the dominant entity in his being. Sascha seemed to struggle as well and after a little while, he rolled on his back again, with a sigh. But he held onto Dominic tightly, and brought his head to rest on his chest.  
"I was so wrong…"  
"That's new."  
"None of my scenarios came close to what it's like to actually make out with you. Not even remotely..."  
"I second that." Dominic smiled.  
"You had some too?"  
"Of course I had."  
"Any recurring one?"  
"Yeah..."  
"Care to share?"  
"Hum… Another time maybe? It's complicated enough to cool down right now… Thinking of my umpire chair fantasy isn't going to help…"  
"An umpire chair?!" Sascha gasped. "Like… on it?"  
"No… Standing. Against it."  
"Oh… Sounds fun!"  
"Shhh… Let me focus on a turn off…"  
"What about… Günter in swimming trunks?"  
"Gosh… Sascha... You're retarded, but… yeah, that works…"  
Sascha laughed and plunged his nose into Dominic's hair.   
They remained silent for a long minute. Dominic wasn't actually picturing his coach in swimming trunks. But he wasn't picturing Sascha naked against an umpire chair either. His mind was back to what he had said earlier, how it wouldn't be match night every night. How he wished it could be true when he should have been wishing the exact opposite. How he had to sort some priorities out.  
"Have you done that before?" Sascha finally asked in a hushed voice.  
"Made out against an umpire chair?"  
"Made out with a guy."  
"What? No!"  
Dominic pushed himself up to look at Sascha who shrugged with a little smile.  
"It's a legit question."  
"It's a weird question, considering you're convinced I went straight from being into Klara to being into you."  
"You went straight…" Sascha repeated, his grin widening. "Poor choice of words."  
"You know what I mean."  
"I do. And yes, I'm convinced you did. But still, you were technically single for four months. I don't know who you gave your body to."  
"No one."  
"Okay."  
"Why are you asking?"  
Sascha placed his hand on Dominic's back to caress his skin with his fingertips and just stared at him for a moment, before shrugging again, this time more shyly.   
"I'm asking because you don't seem nervous at all… You don't seem like you need to take things slow… You seem to know what you're doing, which I'm not complaining about, but--"  
"I have no idea what I'm doing." Dominic replied, frowning.   
"You're just a natural then…"  
"No… I just… don't think about not knowing what I'm doing… when I'm with you. I can't think of anything when we start kissing. My brain shuts off, it's too… overwhelming… But… I am. Nervous. If I think about it, when you're not around. Not anxious, but yeah, nervous. A bit… I mean… I'm a fake adrenaline junkie. Stepping out of my comfort zone stresses me out… I'm nervous when I switch from clay to grass so of course I'm--"  
"Wow!"  
Sascha leaned on his elbows, offended.  
"I'm not grass!"  
"Huh?"  
"I don't want to be grass! I want to be clay."  
"You want to be clay…?" Dominic laughed.  
"Yes. I want to be your favorite surface."  
Dominic pinched his lips together and ran his finger along the line of light hairs between Sascha's abs.  
"Well, I can't know that for sure yet, but you probably will be…"  
"So I'll be clay?"  
"So you'll be clay, as weird of a metaphor as it is…"  
"Good."  
Sascha let his head fall back on the pillow, satisfied, but Dominic stayed still.  
"You don't seem nervous yourself."  
"That's because I'm never nervous."  
"Is it…?"  
Sascha wrinkled his nose.  
"What are you asking?"  
"Same thing you just asked me. I want to know who you gave your body to."  
"Are you sure…?"  
"I…"  
Dominic felt an unpleasant pinch in his stomach and pondered an instant, before replying in a faltering voice:  
"Yeah, I won't mind…"  
"You're a terrible liar."  
"Well, I won't mind as much as being left wondering if you had sex with the entire Mannschaft!"  
"The entire Mannschaft? You're crazy. I turned Müller down. I don't like his face."  
Dominic smacked his lips, suddenly impatient and more bothered than he had any right to be. Sascha sighed and pushed him gently in order for them both to sit up.  
"Full disclosure then?"  
He crossed his legs and Dominic slid his hands underneath the fabric of his shorts, not ready to stop touching him yet.  
"Yes, please. Seems like a healthy way to start a relationship… And, also… I think… When you asked, you knew I would return the question, so I believe you wanted to… to confess something and that was your way to bring it up..."  
"Damn. Since when are you so perceptive, Sherlock?"  
"Sascha…"  
"Okay, okay."  
Sascha inhaled deeply, which worried Dominic at first, until he realized he was just reacting to the caresses on his thighs. So Dominic stopped and grabbed his hands, eager to have him focused on going straight to the point. Sascha looked at their fingers for a moment, then back at him, serious but not embarrassed.  
"So… to give you some context, because your face is telling me I need to, it was back in December, during the break, when I was in Malta. I was basically spending my days thinking about you and… reading your texts about how much fun you were having with Klara… So I was sad and desperate. And I was bored out of my mind, because Mischa had abandoned me for a vacation with Evgenia and the only people my age in this resort were kids of very important people and acting as such."  
"Meaning they weren't paying much attention to you?"  
"Meaning they were self entitled pricks. But I was popular. Really!" he smiled, when Dominic rolled his eyes. "I was practicing with dad every morning and I had my very own fanclub. Five girls who weren't even pretending to be there for any other reason than watching me. Shamelessly giggling or waving whenever I was looking at them. And… there was also a guy, coming every single day to read a book on the mound facing my court. Or at least, to hold a book open, but I don't think he was doing much reading…"  
Sascha paused, as if he was expecting a reaction, but Dominic remained impassible, unsure he had any reason to be upset at this stage.  
"He was maybe two years older than me and… objectively really good looking, even though he wasn't my type. Not that I have a guy type. I… My type is you, and that's it. And he wasn't you. Obviously…"  
Sascha let out a nervous laugh and Dominic brought their hands to his mouth to peck his fingers, pleased by the statement, whatever would come next.  
"But yeah, good looking. Iranian. Hair as great as mine. He was like a human Aladdin. When you… You're more of a… hum… Shit… I'm not sure which Disney Prince you're the human embodiment of…"  
"Could you not drag this for too long? Please…"  
"Sure, sorry… So, he was there all the time and he was quite bad at hiding his crush. At first, I didn't think much of it, but then… I... Well, I really had to find a way to get over you. It was hopeless and I was tired of feeling like shit… And I thought this guy could help. I thought he would make me realize I had been fooling myself, that I wasn't into… the whole testosterone thing after all… You know… Realize I needed boobs and soft skin and… strawberry smelling hair…"  
"So basically, you decided to make out with this guy hoping to be disgusted?"  
"Pretty much, yeah." Sascha shrugged. "And he was the best test subject I could have found, discretion-wise. His father was the ambassador of a country where being gay is punishable by death, so at the kiss and tell game, I had more leverage than him."  
"That's twisted thinking…"  
"That's clever and pragmatic. I'm a pragmatic person. And okay, I may be a bit twisted too, but I'm never…"  
Sascha stopped and turned his head to look at his phone, ringing on the chest of drawers where he had left it earlier. He grumbled, moved aside and stood quickly to reach it in time.  
"Can't you let it go to voicemail?" Dominic asked, slightly appalled.  
"No, coz' if I don't pick up, his next call is gonna be dad… Yes Mischa… ? Indeed, I'm not in the room, you're observant…"  
Dominic wrapped his arms around his knees and chewed his bottom lip, enjoying the sight of Sascha bare-chested and all bedraggled, but worried and nervous to be left hanging.  
"Relax, I'm in the building… I am, I swear. I'm with Domi, I'm giving him some tips on how to kick your ass on grass…"  
Sascha grinned, looking at Dominic, and whispered "He doesn't believe me…" before sighing:  
"Yes, I'll be here soon… I don't know, soon like as soon as I'm done destroying him at FIFA…"  
"Tomorrow then." Dominic said, quite loud, raising an eyebrow.  
"Shhh… Don't listen to him… Soon. No need to alert the CIA, and by CIA I mean dad. Alright ? Thank you…"  
Sascha hung up and shook his head.  
"I truly feel like I'm twelve."  
"You're too fit to be twelve. Now, come back here and finish your story."  
"I like it when you're bossy."  
"Sascha!"  
Dominic hit the mattress and Sascha's flirty smile turned into an apologetic one. He went back to sit on the bed and took his hands.  
"Okay, short story super short… I started chatting him up and throwing unmissable hints that I was interested. But I waited for the last day to actually act, to avoid any embarrassment in case of total disaster. I took him to an equipment shed I had the key card for and… Are you okay…?"  
Dominic had closed his eyes for a second and nodded, a lump in his throat.   
"Yeah, just deleting some shed involving scenarios from my mental catalog… Carry on."  
Sascha squeezed his fingers a bit tighter and Dominic decided to stare at one of the paintings on the wall, way too tensed and uncomfortable to look at him.  
"We kissed, a lot, and… well, I didn't love it, coz' he wasn't the best at it, but I didn't dislike it either, which was kind of annoying… But anyway, we… we got carried away quickly and… I don't think he had any clue what he was doing, but he seemed to enjoy what I was doing and… I mean, I'm just talking hands underneath clothes, okay… ?"  
"Yeah, okay…" Dominic mumbled, focusing really hard on the framed landscape so he wouldn't picture anything else.  
"I'm not sure he would have gone all the way, with a total stranger, in a dusty shed. I don't know… It didn't matter. I realized I wouldn't. I couldn't. Not because of the dusty shed. But because… I was thinking of you."  
Dominic's eyes shifted back into Sascha's.  
"So it felt super wrong. For him, as little as I cared, and… for me. I didn't want it that way. I wanted it to be with you. It had to be with you. Even if that meant going back to boobs and strawberry hair for three years or… forever."  
Dominic breathed in deeply, his heart filling up with relief.  
"Also, believe it or not, but I was feeling guilty. Towards you. Seriously… You were probably having sex all over Tenerife with your girlfriend, but I was there, feeling like I was betraying you or something… Don't smile! I hated you for it!"  
Sascha let go of his hands to hit his chest and Dominic chuckled.  
"I'm sorry but… I'm not too sorry…"  
"Of course you're not." Sascha groaned, rolling his eyes.  
Dominic leant forward to press his lips on the corner of his mouth, and whispered:  
"So you just left…?"  
"Hum… No…"  
Dominic recoiled immediately and frowned.  
"But you said--"  
"I'm kind of an asshole, but I'm not that much of an asshole, okay? That would have been really cruel. I had dragged him there and he was way too far gone already… So I helped him to the finish line and then I left to… well, go help myself…"  
"Still thinking of me?" Dominic asked, feeling the room heating up again.  
"No idiot, thinking of the US Open trophy… So, yeah… That's it… I don't know if that qualifies as sex. I think it kind of does. I mean, foreplay does, right…? So I felt like I had to tell you. But no, I didn't give my body to anyone…"  
"But you started by making it sound like you had, so I would be glad to hear you had just gone to second base?"  
"Told you. Clever."  
"I hate you too."  
Sascha smiled and grabbed his face.  
"And just for the record, the reason why I'm not nervous isn't my ten minutes experience in that shed. It's just that… I can't be nervous with you. I trust you. A hundred percent."  
"Damn it. I'm done hating you…"  
Sascha laughed and kissed him, softly.  
"And I trust you too." Dominic whispered. "Even if I'm a bit nervous. I trust you."  
"I know. And don't worry, I'll try my best to keep overwhelming you… Tomorrow though…"  
He sighed and moved apart.  
"I really need to go. If dad decides to pull a Günter and I'm not there, he'll give me an earful. I'll get mad, we'll start yelling and throwing stuff at each other, Mischa will cry, it'll be awful…"  
"Go then. I don't want to be responsible for a family crisis."  
Sascha stood to pick up his tee-shirt, and the idea of his imminent departure burst the bubble that was protecting Dominic from a bitter reality.  
"About tomorrow…" he started, hesitant.  
"Secret codes, yes! You, me, bathroom, in five."  
"Okay, but… maybe not prior to our matches…"  
Sascha froze for a second, only his hair poking out of his collar. When his face finally reappeared, it showed the same unease Dominic was feeling.  
"Maybe not, yeah… We'll be busy, it might be complicated…"  
"And awkward. For you."  
"And awkward, for me… Gosh, I'm so glad we're playing pretty much at the same time."  
Sascha came back to sit on the bed, to put his shoes on.  
"Would you have attended our match otherwise?"  
"Absolutely not. But I would have had to find an excuse."  
"Can't you just be openly torn because you and I are close friends?"  
"I thought you didn't want to be responsible for a family crisis?"  
"True… Plus, you're not really torn."  
"Hey. Don't…" Sascha winced.  
"It's okay. No hard feelings. I swear. Whatever happens."  
Dominic smiled, genuine, and Sascha nodded, before placing his hand on his cheek.  
"Good luck though."  
"Thanks… You too."  
"And goodnight. As a wise dinosaur would say: now you rest and relax."  
"Oh shut up!"  
Sascha giggled, proudly, and Dominic pulled him closer to kiss him. Kiss him goodnight, kiss him good luck, kiss him long and intensely enough to make up for the time they were about to spend not kissing. Sascha's hands tightened on his back and, at first, he gave in to the embrace, avid and a bit desperate. But suddenly, he freed himself, jumped on his feet and walked away.  
"I'm going, I'm going, I'm going!"  
Dominic inhaled deeply and pressed his lips together, to try and keep the taste of his breath as long as possible.  
"Do I look okay?" Sascha asked, pulling the panel but turning around to face him.  
"Okay? You look… great."  
"No, I know, I'm handsome, but do I look respectable or like I've just fooled around with you?"  
"Oh… Well, maybe tell Mischa we had a pillow fight or something, coz' you're a bit of a mess." Dominic smiled.  
Sascha ran his fingers through his hair, which didn't really improve his disheveled appearance.  
"Will do. Will say you started it after I killed you at FIFA."  
"Of course…"  
"And you're a mess yourself, by the way."  
"I'm not planning on videocalling anyone now, so that's okay."  
Dominic leant on his arms, outstretched behind him. Sascha's eyes fell on his chest, but he shut them immediately and stepped outside.  
"God. You're the epitome of temptation. I'm gone. Goodbye."  
"Sorry…"  
"Oh, don't be."  
Sascha smiled at him over his shoulder and closed the door.   
Dominic laid on his back with a frustrated moan and crossed his arms over his head, his chest heaving. He considered having another shower, he needed one, but after a minute, he decided not to move just yet. He grabbed the pillow and pressed it against his face. It smelt like Sascha's hair, and the sparkling spots came back dancing underneath his eyelids, as soon as he slid his hand in his shorts.


	6. BRAIN CONDITIONS

Tuesday, 8pm

 

Dominic's phone was ringing on the bedside table. It was his mum, calling again. Calling for the sixth time. She would keep trying, with no expectations, just to leave caring and powerless messages he wasn't going to listen to. He wished he could find the courage to ask her not to. Her concerned support wasn't helping. It was making him feel weaker. Pitiable. Miserable. But it would upset her and he couldn't bring himself to upset his mum.  
Luckily, she wasn't around that night to force his hand. And Günter knew and understood that he needed a few hours of solitary self-loathing.  
So he was, self-loathing, seated on the edge of the bed, his hands clenched on the mattress, staring at the TV screen where his mind was replaying the match. Every chance he had missed, every error he had made. Every single bad decision. That was what it had been all about. Bad decisions. He hadn't been outplayed, he hadn't failed at executing. He had just been strategically dumb in critical moments, which made the loss harder to digest. He could improve his strength, his speed, his stokes, but there was nothing to be done about his stupidity. Except for a brain surgery, but the recovery time was putting him of.

A long and firm knock on the door startled him. It wasn't just any knock. It was Sascha's recurring attempt at playing the _Imperial March_ to announce himself. Dominic had been expecting his visit, of course. It would have hurt if Sascha hadn't come to see him. But he wasn't ready yet. He was still way too mad and bitter, boiling from a frustration he really didn't want to take on Sascha. So he closed his eyes and remained still, silent, praying for his mum not to call again and betray his presence in the room.  
"Domi?"  
Sascha knocked again, louder, stopping half way through the _Star Wars_ theme.  
"Domi, I'm sure you're in there… Come on… I know you're staring at the void and scourging yourself. I know that's your thing. I know you, remember… ? Domi! Dominic!"  
Sascha was now banging on the panel and Dominic bit his lip, tensing up.  
"I won't leave, you know? I'll drive you crazy. Or I'll drive the entire floor crazy. Someone will call security and I'll tell them you're having a heart attack or something. Come on! Domiiiiiii!"  
"For god's sake!"  
Dominic jumped on his feet and walked to the door to pull it open, abruptly.  
"Stop it!"  
"Hey!" Sascha grinned, dropping his arm. "You're here! I was about to give up."  
Dominic snorted, exasperated, but before he could reply anything, Sascha raised the paper bag he was holding.  
"I brought donuts!"  
He pushed him to sidle inside the room.  
"I'm not hungry!"  
"Have you eaten tonight?"  
"No."  
"So you must be hungry."  
"I'm not!"  
Dominic closed the door, to be discreet, but he had no intention to let Sascha settle in. Unfortunately, he had already made his way to the coffee table to unpack the food.  
"I wasn't sure if you liked chocolate or jam better, so I took two of each. We can share. Unless you--"  
"Sascha!"  
"What?" he smiled, looking up.  
"I don't want chocolate, I don't want jam! I don't want your donuts, okay?"  
Sascha flinched, briefly, but enough for Dominic to feel guilty, which gave him the ultimate confirmation that he truly had to make him go.  
"Alright." Sascha sighed, not trying to be cheerful anymore. "You don't want my feel-good food, so I'm assuming you don't want to hear my feel-good jokes either. Do you want to talk about it, then?"  
"No."  
"Do you want me to come up with some insufferable bullshit about how you--"  
"No!"  
"Do you want to hug it out?"  
He spread his arms open and Dominic hissed:  
"I want you to leave."  
"Hum, yeah, but that's not an option I was about to give you."  
"But that's what I want. For you to leave me alone."  
Sascha shook his head with a painful smile.  
"This is unfair. You said there wouldn't be any hard feelings, no matter what."  
"There are none! It's not you. It's not about you. It's me. Please…" Dominic implored. "I need to be alone for a little while to… to keep… scourging myself. And you need to… You should go back to your team. You should be celebrating and… Yeah, sorry… Congratulations, by the way…"  
"That's convincing..." Sascha snickered.  
"But I mean it! I just can't show it. See… That's why I don't want to be with you right now. I'm in the worst mood. I'll be hurtful whatever I do… I don't want to hurt you. You don't deserve my crap… Please…"  
"I can handle your crap." Sascha replied, walking closer. "I mean, I can't promise I won't bite back, reflexively, coz' I'm me, but I can take your worst mood. What I can't handle is the idea of you, being alone and sad and beating yourself up when you should be proud of what you--"  
"Proud?" Dominic gasped, taking a step back. "Proud of what?"  
"Of the hell of a scare you gave Mischa! Believe me and… forgive me, but… no one thought he would have to fight this hard."  
"Yeaaah, I didn't get bageled! Wonderful…" Dominic laughed bitterly. "What difference does that make, uh? On paper it's still a first round straight set defeat. Who cares that I forced a tiebreak?"  
"You should. You should care and focus on how long it took him to break your serve. That's something you've been working on and it's bearing fruits. Step by step, it will--".  
"God, stop."  
Dominic clenched his fists, in an attempt to canalize his anger so it wouldn't come out of his mouth.  
"What would you care about if you were me right now? Seriously? Put yourself in my shoes and tell me what you'd be focusing on."  
"Hum… The extremely good looking food provider standing right in front of me?"  
"Come on…"  
"Truthfully?" Sascha shrugged. "If I were you, I'd be throwing darts at a picture of myself and swearing in all the languages I speak. And in French too. Swearing in French feels good. Putain la merde."  
"So why are you expecting me to see the glass half full here?"  
"Because I need you to."  
Sascha tilted his head and smiled, fondly.  
"I wouldn't, expect you to, in other circumstances. I'd shut up and leave. Or… I'd agree it sucks and provide the darts. But I can't, tonight. I can't have you upset… Not now, not here. I mean… This week, this place, Stuttgart, this is… This is our rollercoaster, our scenario come true. And that's all it must be. I want to look back over Stuttgart in the future and feel nothing but… butterflies in my stomach. Pretty butterflies, not moths. So… it can't be about your first round loss or my whatever round upcoming loss. It has to be about you tiebreaking Mischa or not getting bageled or any other worthless silver lining that can upstage your disappointment and… leave Stuttgart unstained. I just… Yeah… I want it to remain perfect… Call me cheesy…  
Sascha chuckled, a bit embarrassed, and Dominic closed his eyes, suddenly stinging.  
"Also, your face is kind of heartbreaking and I hate it."  
Dominic breathed out slowly, to try and get rid of the weight obstructing his chest.  
"It will past… It won't last..." he replied, his voice quivering. "It won't stain anything, but… I feel like shit and now… now, you're sweet talking me so I'm getting emotional on top of it and…"  
He pinched his lips together and brought his hand to his face to press his eyelids.  
'Oh, Domi…"  
Sascha walked to him and wrapped his arms around his waist.  
"Hey..."  
"Sascha…"  
"I know, I know, you didn't want to hug it out, but if you're crying, that's a brand new ball game and… I make the rules."  
"I'm not…"  
"Okay."  
"And… it didn't feel like you were following my rules anyway…"  
"Good point."  
Sascha held him tighter, when Dominic gave in to rest his forehead against his shoulder, and whispered in his hair:  
"I'm sorry, Domi. I'm really sorry."  
"I'm just… mad. So mad… I could have done it but… I'm retarded."  
"You're not."  
"I am. It's like there's a… a brain damaged version of me, who wakes up whenever I can turn things around and goes like 'Now it's time to play clever so… let's not'…"  
"It's called pressure. It's normal. It can affect anybody, anytime. I mean, look at Roger in 2011, choking on his match points against Novak and losing the final… Would you say Roger is brain damaged?"  
"Yeah."  
"Yeah?"  
Sascha moved away and Dominic looked up with a frail smile.  
"Not in that case, at the US Open, but… I believe Roger suffers from a condition called… the French Rafa."  
"What the hell?" Sascha laughed, brushing his temple, evidently relieved to see him cheer up a little.  
"He's got a mental block when it comes to facing Rafa at Roland Garros. It will prevent him from ever winning against him in Paris, no matter how great he plays."  
"Hum… Don't you think it's just that Rafa in unbeatable on clay?"  
"Rafa is beatable on clay. I'll beat Rafa on clay."  
"I like this spirit."  
Dominic blinked a couple of times and Sascha wiped his cheek.  
"Hello, by the way..."  
"Hi…"  
He pressed his lips against Sascha's, softly, closing his eyes again, but quickly turned his head to lean back on his shoulder, still feeling tensed.  
"I freaking hate grass…" he sighed.  
"You and I both."  
"And I hate first round losses."  
"Legitimately…"  
"No but, I mean… I hate it when a new tournament begins, you get there and there's all this preparation, this… build up. All these questions about your expectations and you have to set the bar high, obviously, and then you step on court and… achieve nothing. It's… humiliating…"  
"I know what you mean. I think. No one asks me much…"  
"Enjoy it while it lasts. Really."  
"I'll try… Anything else you hate and want to bitch about? I'm granting you five minutes of bitching."  
"I don't think so. Except… Not that I hate it, but just so you know, I'm not a big fan of jam donuts…"  
"What?!"  
Sascha pushed him apart, shocked.  
"How? You love donuts and I've had breakfast with you often enough to know you love jam."  
"I love jam nicely spread on toast. But inside a donut, it's… As soon as you bite it, it spurts out, all over your fingers."  
"So does chocolate."  
"But chocolate isn't as sticky, it's not as gross and… you think I'm a weirdo, don't you?"  
"Absolutely. I'm freaked out. I should get out of this before it's too late."  
"It is too late." Dominic retorted, tightening his grip on his tee-shirt.  
"Oh. Alright then." Sascha shrugged, before kissing his forehead. "So… Okay, I got the memo, I won't get to try the chocolate donuts…"  
"You will. I'm gonna eat one to do justice to your gesture, but that's it. I'm not--"  
Sascha smacked his lips, to stop him, disapproving, but Dominic carried on anyway.  
"I am not hungry. And if I get hungry, I should probably start by ordering room service, a proper meal… You know, to be healthy…"  
"Healthy is overrated."  
"Have you had dinner?"  
"Yeah. Unseasoned fish and broccoli. Living the life…" Sascha winced. "That's why I thought we could go wild with dessert and I went aaaaall the way to the shop across the street to get you donuts."  
"And I appreciate it. Really. It was thoughtful. You're a thoughtful person."  
"Truly, I'm a selfish person. I'm just comforting you to preserve my own happiness."  
"I don't buy it. You're kind and caring and… thank you… and sorry, for--"  
"Shhh…"  
Sascha slid his hands around his neck and Dominic kissed him, grateful and now eager to forget one frustration by getting rid of another one. Even the stress and the concentration hadn't prevented him from feeling an ardent urge to touch him all day. So he didn't settle long for the soft lips strokes Sascha was going for, in an attempt to keep comforting him. Dominic slipped his fingers underneath his tee-shirt to grasp his skin and kissed him hard, his head and body buzzing from a cathartic desire he hadn't felt before. He kissed him, unbridled, until his ringtone made Sascha jump.  
"It's just my mum…" Dominic panted, his mouth pressed on his neck.  
"You're not answering…?"  
"No…"  
"You're ignoring your mum?"  
"I… I'm sorry, do you want me to pick up… ? Am I bothering you, here?"  
Dominic raised an eyebrow, looking up into his eyes.  
"No…" Sascha chuckled. "But mums are important, they shouldn't be ignored… Especially when we feel like crap…"  
"She's playing shrink on my answering machine and I'll get back to her later. It's fine. That's what we do… And, I feel okay now…"  
"Yeah?"  
"Better, for sure."  
"Butterfly better?" Sascha smiled, running his hands down his back.  
"Hum… They're a bit all over the place, but they're definitely here."  
"Good. I'm glad."  
"And I'm sorry. Don't! Don't shush me again. Let me apologize for being rude to you, otherwise guilt will strike later. You know I do guilt, a lot. I'm a guilter."  
"You weren't rude, Domi. You were mad. Wait til you see me after my loss. I'll be rude and mean and… amnesic. You'll have to remind me of my happy Stuttgart fantasy, okay? And you'll have to hide the darts."  
"I'll try… I would, gladly, but… I can't wish for you to lose tomorrow…"  
"What do you mean?"  
"I might not be here. I don't know, I haven't talked to Günter yet, but we'll probably--"  
"You can't leave!"  
"I will, eventually…"  
"Halle is just a five hours drive away and you're going straight there. Why would you leave already?"  
"To practice on their courts, with their balls. You know… to prepare for another tournament where I might achieve nothing." Dominic shrugged with a resigned smile.  
"Yeah, but no! I issue a veto!"  
"But--"  
"Stuttgart needs to last longer."  
Genuinely upset, Sascha let go of his waist and Dominic grabbed his hands, a bit confused.  
"Stuttgart will resume in Halle. They wild carded you too, didn't they?"  
"Resume? No. I refuse. Nothing will resume, coz' nothing will pause."  
"Why is it so…"  
His phone rang again and Dominic sighed.  
"She's inspired tonight… Wait, let me mute her. And… text her, so you won't lecture me on how mums shouldn't be muted."  
He walked to the bedside table and waited for the call to become a missed one, before typing a short message _"I'm okay, I'm not alone. I'll call you soon and I love you."_ He was hitting "send" when Sascha pressed his chest against his back.  
"You're not leaving before I do."  
Dominic smiled and put his phone on silence then back on the table.  
"And what do I tell Günter to justify our extended stay?" he whispered, leaning backwards.  
"Don't know. Don't care. Don't tell him anything. Hide in a cupboard and wait for me."  
Dominic laughed and took Sascha's hands, to wrap himself in his arms, enjoying the feel of his breath behind his ear.  
"Why are you getting all worked up over a couple of days apart? I mean, I'm not looking forward to it either, I'm truly not, but it was gonna happen and it will happen again… and again…"  
"It's too soon. Too early. I need more time to… to…"  
"To do what?"  
"To brainwash you."  
"Excuse me?"  
This time, Dominic tried to turn around but Sascha didn't let him, tightening his grip.  
"What if that's all it takes? A couple of days apart? A couple of days away from me and my overwhelming charms? For you to realize you've made a huge mistake?"  
"Sascha."  
"Because you have. We both have. Just turned our lives into a complete mess. But I'm fine with that, I've had a year to weigh the pros and cons and to dismiss the cons. But you… you haven't thought this through. You're not pragmatic enough. No offense…"  
Dominic pinched his lips, widening into an incontrollable grin.  
"So if you go before I'm done sascha-ing you to the point of no return, you might start considering all the cons, you might forget I'm worth it, you might… put me in your drawer of entertaining but not to be repeated experiences. Maybe that's all I'm gonna become, an experience, if that's not what I am already. I mean, I know I'm not, but…"  
Dominic burst out laughing, incapable of holding it in any longer.  
"Okay… That's offensive…"  
"Oh my god, Sascha…"  
Dominic wiggled to free himself and finally face him.  
"What?"  
"We're so pathetically insecure, but… I'm so relieved…"  
He snorted, shaking his head, and Sascha folded his arms.  
"What's so funny?"  
"I… I spent Sunday afternoon convinced you were just messing with me to make sure Mischa would win."  
"Huh?"  
"And looking back on my paranoia crisis, I was appalled and ashamed by my own stupidity, but… you're worse than me!"  
"I'm not stupid. I'm not paranoid. I'm not insecure. I'm just--"  
"Yeah, yeah, I know, you're pragmatic. And twisted. And apparently deaf."  
Dominic breathed in, to try and keep his hilarity under control, and grabbed Sascha's teeshirt.  
"Didn't you hear the part where you've been annoyingly… sascha-ing me for I don't even know how long? Didn't you listen to your own take on how I dumped my perfect girlfriend for you? How I've been fantasizing about umpire chairs and ball pits? How I'm--"  
"I didn't hear anything about ball pits, no!" Sascha reacted, swiftly, his eyes widening.  
"But you heard everything else. So where does that come from?" Dominic smiled, puzzled but still highly amused.  
"Mischa." Sascha sighed.  
"What did he do? On top of depriving me from a victory?"  
"He… When I went back to my room last night, he was worried that I had actually been cluing you on how to beat him. So I denied, but I played martyr, explained your match was a conflict of interests for me. And he told me to get used to it, which I didn't get at first. I mean, it's not like you're gonna face each other every other day. Hopefully… But he wasn't talking about himself… See, as a firm believer that I'm gonna be the next big thing, Mischa is projecting, a lot. So he warned me about the certainty you and I are going to be rivals and how our relationship might suffer from it and blah blah blah… I didn't need him to contemplate this. That's part of all the cons I've dismissed just thinking about your abs..."  
Dominic bit his bottom lip and pulled him closer.  
"But anyway, he reminded me of that weighting process I had been through and… I started to wonder if you had… projected yourself… I mean… Have you even thought that we could face each other first round in Halle?"  
"No, I haven't. And I'm not planning on worrying about it. I'm not gonna let any hypothetical unfortunate draw ruin my bliss. I did my three hours of over thinking and, I'm done. Especially now that I know you've been… dominized for a year, I'm immune to doubts."  
"Dominized?"  
"Dominitized? No! Dominated, pure and simple. I'm dominating you."  
"Okay, calm down Thieminho." Sascha sniggered.  
"And you know what?" Dominic grinned, pressing his fist on his chest. "You should truly go for the Native American silence thing. You speak way too much for you own good. The more you tell me, the more I know how badly you're into me, the less blinding power you've got over me."  
"Oh. My. God. Who are you?" Sascha gasped, his jaw dropping.  
"Hum… Not sure… I think I'm balancing my current lack of faith in my tennis abilities with personal over confidence."  
"That, or it is truly kiss-ually transmissible."  
"Maybe…" Dominic smiled, wrapping his arms around Sascha's body. "Anyway, you've got nothing to worry about, alright? The only thing I'll be doing if we're apart will be missing you and counting hours."  
"Alright… But still, if you could convince Günter to hang around, that's be nice."  
"I'll try. And you… Well, don't lose on purpose tomorrow."  
"Okay, now you need to get over yourself!"  
Dominic chuckled and pressed his mouth on his chin, then on his neck just below his ear.  
"What was the next part of your plan to brainwash me?"  
"I'm not telling you anything anymore, you power thief!" Sascha replied firmly, tilting his head to give Dominic more skin surface to peck.  
"I'm not asking you to tell me. But you can carry on, as if I hadn't reassured you."  
"Oh, I haven't stopped. I'm constantly sascha-ing you. But it's very subtle, so you might not realize it. It's like how you just went from feeling like shit to feeling invincible in the spam of ten minutes by my side. It's over, you'll never want to be left alone after a loss now."  
"I might just not lose, ever again."  
"See. Invicible."  
"You're good…" Dominic murmured against his lips.  
"I'm the best. And… I can do unsubtle as well."  
"Yeah? Will you serenade me? I've always wanted to be seren--"  
Dominic quivered and opened his eyes wide, as Sascha had just slid his hands in his shorts.  
"Wow..."  
"Sorry, Domi. I don't sing."  
"I… It's fine…"  
He sunk his nails in Sascha's back, his entire body tensing. He found his mouth and kissed him, his head spinning, but soon, Sascha's caresses on his boxers made it impossible for Dominic to hold a groan back and he plunged his face in his neck.  
"Shit..."  
"Wait."  
Sascha pulled his hand out, slowly, to rid Dominic's tee-shirt up.  
"This needs to go. This should always go when we're alone together."  
Dominic managed to smile, swallowing hard, and raised his arms to help him.  
"Same goes for you…" he whispered when his tee-shirt hit the floor.  
So Sascha removed his, bluntly, messing up his hair. Dominic clenched his hips and slipped his thumbs underneath his waistband, but Sascha gripped his wrists.  
"No. I'm brainwashing here. You're not."  
"But--"  
"Let me. Lie down."  
He pushed him until Dominic sat on the bed, his heart beating so fast, his rib cage was vibrating. His eyes locked onto Sascha's, he moved backwards and fell on the mess of clothes he had left on the mattress earlier. Sascha laid on his side and kissed him, heatedly. When Dominic tried to turn into facing him, he placed his palm on his chest to hold him on his back. He ran his fingers along his abs and when they reached the edge of his shorts, Dominic arched and pulled them down himself, as well as his boxers, losing the pace and the control of the kiss, already gasping for air. For a few interminable seconds, Sascha remained still, his mouth pressed opened against his, his hand resting on his belly. But he finally grabbed him and Dominic turned his head to muffle a moan against his shoulder.  
He knew, straight away, that he wasn't going to last long. In a dream or a fantasy, he would have. But Sascha's touch was wringing his body in a way his own never had. There was absolutely nothing he could do. Pleasure was already rushing in, striking, clouding his mind. Sascha had to feel it, but he didn't pause, he kept fastening the pattern of his strokes. But he straightened up slightly and after a little while, when Dominic moaned louder, he whispered:  
"God… You're so hot, it's beyond belief…"  
Dominic brought one fist to his chin, to bit his own skin, and grasped Sascha's waist tighter, probably painfully, when a first spasm wrenched him. The shudder bent his back and he quickly flattened his palm on his mouth in a vain attempt to not produce any sound.  
Sascha carried on caressing him, until the last spasm, until Dominic's body finally loosened, heavy and clammy. He pressed his mouth on his forehead, on his cheek, then on his lips. He pecked them, one after another, aware that Dominic was in no breathing shape for a deeper kiss. He pecked them, waiting for him to stop shivering, then he turned his head aside and murmured:  
"Can I use this?"  
"Hum…"  
"I'm talking about the blue tee-shirt you worn at practice this morning…"  
"Whatever…"  
"Okay." Sascha chuckled.  
Dominic tried to clear his throat, but it felt really dry, so he gulped and breathed in, as deeply as he could. He let out a little whine when Sascha released him, and a deeper one when he started wiping his belly, gently.  
"Sorry… Trying to prevent a mess…"  
"It's okay… Everything's okay…"  
"Are you?"  
"I'm… great."  
"Slightly sascha-ed?"  
"Slightly? I'm… I'm quitting tennis… From now on I'll… I'll just follow you around…"  
"Like a groupie?"  
"Yeah. I'll be your groupie… Just waiting, naked, in your hotel rooms…"  
"You're too talented to quit. Plus, my hotel rooms are also Mischa's most of the time."  
"Don't care if he sees me naked."  
"I do."  
Dominic opened his eyes. He brought his hand to Sascha's forehead to run it through his hair and make him look up.  
"What?"  
"Just so you know… Unsubtle is nice. I like unsubtle. A lot…"  
Sascha grinned and crawled up to kiss him. Dominic's chest heaved, but he gave in, ardently, hit by late twitches of pleasure. He placed his fingers on Sascha's lower back, rubbing his skin, ready to go further down, but a sudden and long gurgling stopped him.  
"Sorry…" Sascha giggled against his lips.  
"Was that your stomach? Or… is there a bear in my room?"  
"Hey… Unseasoned fish and broccoli, remember?"  
"Poor thing… You should have a donut…"  
"Would you mind?"  
"Wait… Right now?" Dominic frowned, as Sascha was pushing himself away.  
"Yeah… Otherwise, I'll keep gurgling, which I fear could ruin the mood."  
Dominic was pretty certain nothing could ruin anything, but he nodded and let his arms fall on the bed to free him. Sascha rolled on his side and stood up.  
"Want one?"  
"No..."  
Dominic put his boxer back in place, sighing audibly in the process, but took off his shorts. When Sascha walked back to the bed, he threw them at his feet.  
"You kept your shoes on, you ill-mannered kid."  
"I did. I'm also about to eat in your bed. Sue me. And then I'll sue you, for calling me a kid."  
Sascha sat on the mattress, but Dominic raised an eyebrow, so he rolled his eyes.  
"Okay, okay. Happy?" he mocked, once his trainers on the floor.  
"Delighted…"  
Sascha shook his head and placed a couple of napkins next to him, holding the donut carefully. But Dominic snatched it out of his hands.  
"You said you didn't want one!"  
"I don't."  
Dominic pushed him down and turned to lie on the stomach across the bed, resting his forearms on Sascha's chest.  
"So what on earth are you doing?" Sascha frowned, leaning on his elbows.  
"Proving a point."  
He bit into the pastry, stronger than necessary, pressing it with his fingers at the same time, and some jam escaped from both sides, dripping on Sascha's skin.  
"Oh my god, really?!"  
"Point proven." Dominic smiled, handing the donut back to him.  
But Sascha grabbed the napkins instead, shocked but amused.  
"Weirdo is an understatement! Oh come on, stop it!" he laughed.  
Dominic was pushing Sascha's hand away, preventing him from wiping himself, and he suddenly shoved the donut in his mouth.  
"Enjoy. I'll take care of the jam. You know I love jam..."  
Sascha chewed and swallowed the bit he had been forced to eat, but he threw the other half on the bedside table, as if it had started burning his fingers.  
"No wonder your stomach is rioting, if that's the kind of food portions you take..." Dominic whispered, spreading one of the drops with his fingertip.  
"You're about to lick jam off of my body, aren't you…?"  
"What gave me away?"  
"And you're expecting me to eat and not choke while you do it?"  
"Well… I was gonna be gentle…"  
"Yeah, no. Still."  
He inhaled deeply and Dominic smiled, glancing up to meet his eyes.  
"Are you… slightly dominized already?"  
"Slightly..." Sascha sighed, sinking his head in the pillow.  
"Just at the thought of--"  
"Yes."  
"Oh… alright. Then, I think I… I should try to turn you into a groupie…"  
He pressed his lips on his chest, glided his hand down to his shorts, and when Sascha grasped his hair, tightening, Dominic felt like he was going to succeed.


	7. IN TIME OF CRISIS

Thursday, 12pm

 

"Domi… Hey… Domi…"  
At first it felt like the whispers were part of his dream, that Sascha was drawing his attention to the colorful fishes appearing in the pool. But soon, it stopped making sense that he would stroke his cheek this fondly, when they were surrounded by their families. So Dominic turned his head to escape his caresses, but he met the dark and critical look of the umpire, swimming towards them. Freaked out, he dived under water and snapped out of it.  
He flinched and felt a sharp pain in his neck when he straightened up in the back seat, due to the uncomfortable position he had gradually fell in. He opened his eyes, but the brightness outside dazzled him, so he folded his arm in front of his face, whining.  
"Hey sleepy head…"  
"What's… What are you doing?" Dominic mumbled, his mouth furry. "You touched me in the pool."  
"You were dreaming we were in a pool? Damn. I'm sorry I had to wake you up."  
Dominic blinked and looked at him over his elbow, his thoughts fuzzy.  
"What's going on…?"  
"Nothing." Sascha smiled, brushing his hair away from his forehead. "We've stopped."  
"Yeah, I can tell…"  
They were parked next to a white van, Sascha had left the front seat to come at the back with him and they were alone in the car.  
"Why? Where are we?"  
"Rest area. Mischa needed a wee, urgently. And we were getting hungry. He told me to let you sleep, but I didn't want you to boil in there, with the air con off."  
"Hum…"  
Dominic yawned and rubbed his eyelids.  
"You dozed off after ten minutes." Sascha mocked. "I was telling a great story and realized Mischa was the only one listening, which was pointless coz' he had heard it before."  
"Sorry… Back seats put me right to sleep. Every time…" he sighed before gulping. "I'm super thirsty."  
"Here…"  
Sascha bent to reach the cool box stuck behind the gear lever and grabbed a bottle filled with a pinkish liquid.  
"Don't we have plain water left?"  
"No. We really need supplies."  
"You went through three bottles already?" Dominic frowned, accepting the drink. "How long have we been on the road for?"  
"Two hours. Air con makes Mischa's throat super dry. Hence why he had to run to the toilets."  
Dominic drunk a couple of mouthful to quench his thirst, but the strawberry flavor was too sweet to be really efficient.  
"I need a coffee."  
"You always need a coffee. Although you might only find crappy vending machines in there."  
"Let's see…"  
He unfastened his seatbelt, eager to stretch his legs and back.  
"Wait a minute."  
Sascha grabbed his wrist before he could reach the door handle. He glanced around quickly, then wrapped his arm around his waist.  
"Good morning."  
"You've already good morning-ed me this morning." Dominic smiled, placing his hand on his neck.  
"So?"  
"Just saying."  
"Shut up then…"  
They kissed, softly at first, then deeper, holding each other tight, until Sascha moved apart. He looked outside again, obviously wary to be exposed to people's eyes, but he pressed his mouth against Dominic's again, before seating back.  
"That's it. We can go. I can strike 'making out in a car' off of my list."  
"You call that making out?" Dominic snickered, even though he was himself not too comfortable doing anything in a public spot in broad daylight.  
"Oh, sorry. Mister Thiem has high standards now."  
"Don't you?"  
Sascha bit his lip, grinning, and opened his door. Dominic checked that his phone hadn't slipped from his shorts pocket and got out of the car. The heat felt like a weight, suddenly thrown on his shoulders, but at least, a light breeze was blowing. He inhaled deeply to oxygenate his brain and bring it back to a fully functioning mode, and extended his arms above and behind his head.  
"You're a lame road trip partner, by the way." Sascha claimed, walking around the car, playing with the bunch of keys he had just used to lock it.  
"Won't deny that… It would help if I could drive for a little while, when we'll--".  
"Not gonna happen. Mischa is never gonna leave you in charge of his second girlfriend."  
"Mischa is a buzzkill." Dominic grumbled as they stepped onto the parking alley to make their way to the building. "He could let me. He owes me!"  
"He doesn't owe you shit. He didn't steal the victory away from you. You said you robbed yourself."  
Dominic pushed him, as a punishment for not backing him up, but he smiled, not truly bothered, having had time to digest the match.  
"Plus, we're all losers now." Sascha winced.  
"Well, you guys still went one round further than I did, so you earned more money, so lunch is on you."  
"Sure… If that makes you happy, I'll treat you with a vacuum packed sandwich and a bag of crisps."  
"And a triple expresso."  
"And a triple expresso…"  
"You're lovely."  
"That's only because you're really cute with your sleepy eyes and your bed hair. Or car hair."  
"I'm not sure I enjoy being called cute."  
"I'm not sure I enjoy being called lovely. But here we are, all cheesy and screwed up."  
Dominic laughed and moved a bit closer, so their arms would brush past each other.  
"Have you heard from your dad?"  
"No. But they're ahead of us for sure."  
"I wonder what they're talking about."  
"They're probably bonding over their common hatred for that French journabitch."  
They had been pleasantly surprised, during the breakfast their teams had shared in the hotel restaurant, to hear Günter promptly approve the car sharing reorganization Sascha had just suggested, with no expectations to be taken seriously. After a short reflection and a few jokes about Dominic having to forgive Mischa first, the Zverevs had agreed too.  
"Or they're exchanging practice torture tips." Sascha carried on, passing the self opening doors.  
"Maybe they're not talking at all. Maybe they're listening to Günter's favorite opera. The one I've banned from any car I seat in."  
"Oh yeah, sounds like something dad would enjoy. Okay, where has he gone now?"  
The station was bigger than Dominic had imagined. They were standing in a lobby, surrounded by half a dozen of shops.  
"Should we check the kids' area?"  
"Why would Mischa be in the kids' area?"  
"He's not. But there's probably a ball pit in there."  
Sascha glanced at him and pinched his lips, before shaking his head.  
They entered a minimarket where the air conditioning was so strong, Dominic's hairs stuck up immediately on his arms. Mischa was observing the content of a chilled food section, rubbing his chin and pouting.  
"Why so intense?" Sascha asked, adopting the same position next to him. "Can't choose between chicken and salmon?"  
"Won't choose between chicken and salmon. Everything looks inedible."  
"Yeah… Why do they put egg salad in everything?"  
"Hey…" Mischa sighed, turning to face them. "What do you say we hit the cafeteria instead? Eat here, as we're in no rush?"  
"Aren't we?" Sascha frowned.  
"Dad just informed me they're making a huge detour across the countryside. Some heritage site he really wants Günter to see."  
"God. Dinosaurs… Yeah, alright then. I don't mind."  
"Domi?"  
"As long as I get a coffee, I'm up for anything."  
"Great. Real food it is then."  
They walked back to the lobby and Dominic asked, in a light and cheerful tone:  
"What about I drive after lunch?"  
Mischa raised an eyebrow, looking at Sascha.  
"He's funny."  
"I told him…"  
"Come on! Hey, if I drive, you can get yourself a nice cold beer."  
Mischa opened his mouth, but remained silent for a few seconds, before grinning.  
"Nice try, but no."  
Dominic scowled and Sascha wrapped his arm around his shoulders, laughing.  
"You can get yourself a nice cold beer."  
"Oh I will then. After my expresso and a liter of iced water."  
"Great, so we'll have to stop again in one hour for you to pee." Mischa objected, as they entered the crowded restaurant.  
"At least I won't fall asleep if I'm wriggling on my seat. Sascha won't complain that I'm abandoning him in your boring company."  
"I never said that!"  
Dominic chuckled when he let go of him and Mischa looked at him, perplexed.  
"What?"  
"I think you're spending too much time with my brother. You're starting to sound like him."  
"There's no such thing as spending too much time with me." Sascha shrugged, letting himself drop in a booth by the window.  
Dominic sat on the bench next to him and Mischa took his place across, immediately studying the menu printed on the paper placemats. As soon as his eyes fell on the " _meatballs mac &cheese + green salad_" combo, Dominic knew he didn't need to look any longer. So he took his phone out of his pocket. He had received a text from Dennis and some Facebook notifications, but he ignored them, surprised to see he had also a lot from Instagram. " _alexzverev123 tagged you in a post_ ". He frowned and discovered a selfie Sascha had taken earlier, with him fast asleep in the background " _Road trip to Halle with @domithiem in the back not even knowing what is going on_ ".  
"Seriously?" he groaned, throwing the phone on the table, screen up.  
"Yeah!" Sascha smiled. "Great pic, isn't it?"  
"Seriously?"  
"Seriously! Hey, I could have been a prick. Like wait for you to be all twisted and drooling."  
"I didn't drool!"  
"How do you know?"  
"I… I don't drool…" Dominic mumbled, suddenly worried. "I mean… Do I?"  
"No…" Sascha giggled, squeezing his wrist gently. "Not that I know of. And if you want me to take the pic down, I will, but I'll break the hearts of my… Shit! Eight hundred and thirty-two likes already? I never get that many likes this quickly!"  
"Well. I can't help it that I'm popular."  
Mischa looked up, abruptly.  
"Did you just quote _Mean Girls_?"  
"Yeah… Sorry, don't know where that came from."  
"What's shocking here is you knowing it's from _Mean Girls_!" Sascha snorted.  
"Shhh! Whatever. Have you chosen? I think we need to order at the counter."  
"Domi will go, as we're buying."  
"Are we?"  
"Apparently. I'll have the lasagna. And a sparkling water. Please."  
Dominic stood up, retrieving his phone.  
"Can I have some cash? Please."  
"Mischa?"  
"Oh, so I'm buying?!"  
Sascha pulled an angel face and Mischa sighed, desperate, but took his wallet out.  
"A cheeseburger, a side of onion rings, a mixed salad and a vanilla milkshake."  
"That's why you're buying."  
Dominic grabbed the bills Mischa was handing, smiled at Sascha and turned around to go queue at the counter. While waiting, he replied to Dennis, who was having girls problems and was weirdly expecting brilliant advices from him. Then he scrolled down his Facebook timeline, mindlessly, wondering if the time hadn't come to tell his best friends about his own love life. Not that he was in a rush to, but if hiding his inconsequential feelings had been okay, his current relationship with Sascha felt like one secret he wasn't supposed to keep from Dennis or Lucas.  
He placed the order, asked to get his coffee immediately and walked back to the table, holding the cup carefully.  
"I went for half a lobster and a bottle of champagne. Hope it's okay." he joked, sitting down.  
The silence that followed disconcerted him and he understood that the brothers had been quiet for a while, staring at each other. Mischa was relaxed, smiling, but Sascha had his hands clenched on the table, an expression of complete mortification on his face.  
"What's happening?"  
"I think he's having a brain freeze."  
"Why? What have you done?" Dominic frowned, lifting his coffee to inhale its bracing smoke.  
"Nothing. Just said I was okay with him seating at the back of the car with you. If you guys want to enjoy this opportunity to smooch in peace."  
Dominic didn't know it was possible to swallow coffee through the nose, but he did, and almost dropped the cup.  
"Okay… Your brain won't freeze but it might burn."  
Dominic pinched his nostrils, blinking and coughing.  
"But it's probably the quickest way for caffeine to kick in." Mischa laughed, leaning on the backrest of his seat.  
"What…?" Dominic gasped, his eyes shining from the choking.  
"Sniffing coffee."  
"No… I mean… What?"  
"Oh, I see. But 'what' like you didn't hear me? Or 'what' like you're about to mumble some sort of denial that will deeply offend me?"  
Dominic glanced at Sascha, who had closed his eyes. He realized denying was indeed pointless. If Mischa was having any doubts, his brother's reaction had surely just swept them away.  
"Come on guys… Did you think I was blind?"  
"Hum… No, but… I think… We… we didn't think there was anything to see… We thought… we were discreet…"  
"You were. You are. Someone not looking for it wouldn't see it. But as I know he's been pinning for you since December…"  
Sascha whined and buried his face in his arms on the table.  
"Well, no… actually, it's… it's been a year…"  
Sascha whined louder and Dominic bit his tongue, having no idea how to handle the situation.  
"Reaaaally? Interesting… He only turned into a sad emo puppy around Christmas."  
Dominic couldn't help but chuckle. He was shocked and nervous, but mostly because of Sascha. He was more comfortable than he had thought he would ever be facing the revelation of their relationship. Behind the teasing, Mischa looked nothing but kind and understanding.  
"What's the matter with you?" he smiled, bending forwards to squeeze Sascha's wrist. "Aren't you moved that I know you so well, I could tell--"  
"No, I'm not!" Sascha replied, straightening up abruptly. "I'm clearly not!"  
"That hurts…" he grinned, pressing his palm against his heart. "I would have thought you--"  
"Have you told mum? Or dad? Or both?!"  
"Okay. This hurts."  
Mischa winced and his face tensed up.  
"Have you told anyone?!"  
Dominic felt like stroking Sascha's thigh but refrained from getting his hand too close to him, as he looked really mad. Any attempt at comforting him could possibly cost him his way of making a living. Mischa opened his mouth but his eyes shifted to the side and he nodded politely when a waitress stopped by their table, holding their drinks on a tray. The stiffing silence that accompanied her delivery didn't seem to bother her and when Dominic thanked her softly, she gave him a cheerful smile.  
"You told Evgenia!" Sascha claimed, as soon as she walked away.  
He laughed bitterly when Mischa sighed.  
"Oh my god…"  
"I told her because I tell her everything. And also because I needed to share my theories, when that's all they were."  
"That's wonderful, thank you! She probably told her sister who told her--"  
"She didn't tell anyone. Could you calm down a notch?"  
Mischa shook his head, annoyed, and Dominic grabbed his cup to swirl the coffee, to not have to look at any of the brothers, his stomach starting to contract unpleasantly.  
"You're overreacting." Mischa sighed. "Why does it bother you so much?"  
"Because! I didn't want anybody to know, okay? I don't… we don't need anyone to know and… and have theories and opinions!"  
"You do, actually."  
"What?"  
"You need at least one person. Each of you. As you can't be friends anymore."  
Dominic looked up briefly and Sascha snickered.  
"Coz' we're soon to be rivals?"  
"No, dumbass. Coz' you're… a thing now. Don't get me wrong. You're closer than you've ever been, on… plenty of levels I suppose. And I have no doubts you'll be good at communicating considering one of you was born with no filter between his brain and his mouth. But you're not friends. You can't be each other's friend now. So in time of crisis or… sheer happiness that you'll be dying to share, you'll need someone else to go to."  
"What crisis? And… what…?"  
Dominic was nodding, slowly, approving the reasoning, but he glanced at Sascha, sensing his outraged surprise.  
"You agree with him? You're planning on telling someone?"  
"Well… Now now, not right away, but… yeah. It's important and it's… good. I mean, it's great... So I--"  
"Amazing. And you, you believe you'll be my confident?" Sascha snorted, staring back at Mischa.  
"Well, you confide in me for everything else, so…"  
"Oh don't flatter yourself!"  
Mischa rolled his eyes and took his milkshake. But he put it back down after only one sip, disgusted.  
"That's coconut."  
"I said vanilla." Dominic frowned. "I'm sure I said vanilla."  
"I'm sure you did." he smiled, standing up.  
He grabbed the receipt folded on the table and walked away without a single look for Sascha. Dominic followed him with his eyes for a few seconds, his jaws clenched, then he pushed his cup and whispered:  
"You're being hurtful."  
"He's fine."  
"I'm not."  
"What? Why?!"  
Sascha turned to face him, genuinely shocked.  
"Coz' you're making such a big deal of your brother finding out about… me. Like I'm some shameful or embarrassing secret you were planning on taking to the grave… I mean, I can't put myself in your shoes. Maybe I wouldn't enjoy my family finding out before I'm ready for them to. And you didn't want anyone to know, fair enough. But Mischa does. So just… get over it, okay?" he sighed, rubbing his temple. "Just be… relieved. That's one less person you need to lie to. And be grateful, to have the kind of brother who gives you a free pass to make out with your boyfriend…"  
"I wouldn't make out with a girl in the presence of Mischa."  
"Okay, so don't. Stay in the front seat, whatever. But relax about it, please... I know we've left Stuttgart, your perfect fantasy bubbly is safe, so you don't need to make every effort now, but--"  
"Wow! You can't think that way!" Sascha recoiled.  
"Don't act that way then."  
"Domi. I… I… I'm sorry…"  
He grasped Dominic's hand to bring it under the table and squeeze it, appalled.  
"I didn't mean… I'm not ashamed or embarrassed and… and I'm not taking us for granted already… Hell no. I'm just… bothered… I think… I'm scared to bring anyone in on this. What if they scratch the bubble? I don't want people to have an influence over our perfect scenario…"  
"They will, whether we like it or not. Unless we elope on a deserted island, but we can't do that. Our relatives will be part of our scenario. But… someone like Mischa, who's aware and supportive, won't have a harmful influence."  
"Of course not. I know that. I know he won't…"  
Sascha pinched his lips and closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. He remained silent for a little while, then whispered:  
"So… I'm your boyfriend…?"  
"Hum… What else do you want to be? My boy toy?"  
"No…" he giggled, looking at him. "I mean, yes, but not only. I want… I want to be everything and… I wish I could be enough."  
"You are. That doesn't mean you have to be."  
"But… I'm not good at sharing my stuff."  
"Your stuff?"  
He raised an eyebrow and Sascha smiled, trying to be cute and unfortunately succeeding. He stroked Dominic's palm but looked aside and frowned.  
"What are you doing?"  
Mischa was standing by a condiments display unit, sipping his milkshake and pretending to be fascinated by the parking outside.  
"Me?" he asked, faking uncertainty.  
"I'm not asking the ketchup jar. I know what it's doing. It's dispensing ketchup."  
"I didn't want to interrupt what looked like good communication."  
"Come on, sit down."  
Mischa shrugged and took his place back in front of them. Dominic tried to pull his hand free, but Sascha held it tighter. So he grabbed his coffee with the free one, but something odd about the milkshake color stopped him before he could drink.  
"Did you keep the coconut one?"  
"No…"  
"It looks exactly the same."  
"That's because it's been vanilla all along." Sascha groaned, rolling his eyes.  
"Huh? I don't get it…"  
"I had to leave. I had to stop the tantrum I had triggered, coz' it was hurting your feelings."  
Mischa pointed at Dominic with a caring smile that made him feel really vulnerable out of a sudden.  
"I'm okay…"  
"Good."  
"I'm okay too, in case your care about my feelings."  
"Not really, no." Mischa grinned.  
"Prick…"  
Sascha took a long breath in, drumming nervously on the table, and cleared his throat.  
"Alright. You know. It's been acknowledged. And processed. Kind of… It's on the process of being processed. But… I don't want to hear what you know and how you know it. I don't want to start thinking back on everything I've done those past few months and freak out that I've been an open book to another observant relative. Deal?"  
"Deal. And if it can ease your mind, mum is convinced you're having a long distance relationship with a girl from Malta."  
"What girl?" Dominic jumped.  
"What girl?" Sascha squinted.  
"I don't know. I wasn't there. A girl you spent quite some time with."  
"Five girls were following me around."  
"Great. Take your pick then."  
"Or better…" Dominic mocked. "Make use of that amazing Man United supporter fake girlfriend of yours."  
"Arsenal. And no. I'm not making up stories. I'm not lying to mum… I'll just be a retarded emo teenager who doesn't open up about anything."  
"Emo? Come on kid. You're an absolute sunshine."  
They all looked up at the waitress who displayed all her teeth, not showing an ounce of unease for having ears dropped, and placed a burger and the onion rings on the table.  
"Thank you…" Sascha murmured.  
"You're welcome. Pastas coming in two minutes!"  
She turned around and Mischa snickered, ready to make a sassy comment. But he got distracted and opened his eyes wide when Dominic picked one of his fries.  
"Hey!" he protested. "Mischa doesn't share food!"  
"Thank you! A Zverev who's watched _Friends_!" Dominic cheered, eating the fry anyway.  
"That's because he's a Zverosaure."  
"Prick!"  
"Oh, you can insult me all you want. I'll rise above it. I'm an absolute sunshine."  
Sascha grinned, proudly, and Mischa sighed in despair.  
"My god… Why do you even put up with him, Domi? I have to, but you don't."  
"Still trying to figure that out..." Dominic laughed, softly.  
"Who cares why? I mean… As long as you do…"  
Sascha had just whispered his last words and Dominic looked down, pinching his lips, hit by a locker room flashback. He moved a bit closer and caressed his palm underneath the table, hoping Sascha would understand he didn't care why either. It didn't matter. He would put up with him in times of crisis or sheer happiness. He had no choice. And he would turn any other option down anyway.

 

They were approaching the car and Dominic left Sascha's side to scamper behind Mischa.  
"So? So? So? Can I drive?"  
"My god… You had a beer!"  
"Half of a beer. And I didn't sniff it, so the alcohol hasn't reached my nervous system yet."  
"My answer hasn't either." Mischa mocked. "Should I try in French? Non, hors de la question."  
"But I'm so full! I'll fall asleep…" Dominic whined.  
"Then you sleep, what do you want me to say? It's okay. Sasch' and I will debate the frivolity of our place in the universe or some other deep topic he gets really intense about."  
Mischa unlocked the car and Dominic grumbled, opening the back door.  
"You are the lame road trip partner. Günter would let me drive."  
He sat down, feeling like he had just entered an oven, and hastened to put the bottles of water in the cool box.  
"But would Günter cuddle you when you don't?"  
"Huh?"  
"Actually, I hope he wouldn't… Move!"  
Sascha had already one leg in the car next to him and Dominic frowned, confused.  
"What are you doing?"  
"Increasing my chances to keep you awake. But I won't fit behind Mischa, I need more room, so shift on your left."  
Dominic obeyed but stopped on the middle seat, his heart filling up.  
"You changed your mind…"  
"You changed my mind. Ouch!"  
He had just hit his knee on the edge of the tray table and Dominic giggled, helping him to push the front seat forward.  
"Alright guys! Three rules!" Mischa announced, starting up the engine. "Feet on the floor, seatbelts on and… clothes on."  
"Mischa!" Sascha jumped.  
"Just saying."  
"Bring on the air con then, coz' I'm boiling." Dominic objected. "I tend to undress when I'm boiling."  
"Give it a few minutes. My car is awesome but it's not the Batmobile."  
"Yeah… That's why I'm not interested on driving it."  
Mischa laughed, maneuvering out of the parking spot, and Dominic fastened the seatbelt around his waist.  
"You're staying in the middle?" Sascha asked in a low voice.  
"Increasing my chances to get proper cuddles. I mean… If it's fine…"  
He glanced at Mischa, then back at Sascha who smiled and slid his arm behind his neck.  
"Yeah, it's fine."  
Dominic sunk deeper in the seat and leant against him, resting his hand on his thigh.  
"You don't mind if I call Evgenia?"  
"What if we do?"  
"I'll call her anyway." Mischa snickered, connecting the free hand kit. "I was just being polite."  
"Thought so… Will you discuss me and Domi…?"  
"No, Sascha, we won't. You're not the main topic of all our conversations."  
"What a sad and boring relationship you're in… Hey…" he whispered to Dominic, who had just closed his eyes. "Don't you fall asleep on me."  
"I'll try, but you're really comfy."  
Sascha chucked and pressed his lips on his temple. He started pecking his skin, lightly, sending soft shivers through Dominic's body and taking his mind away from Evgenia's joyful delivery, already coming out of the speakers.  
"Not sure what you're doing is helping…" he sighed with content.  
"I'm in love with you."  
Dominic flinched away, opening his eyes wide into Sascha's.  
"Now you're fully awake." he grinned.  
"I… I hope so…"  
His chest heaved and Sascha turned a bit to place his hand on his cheek, murmuring:  
"I'm… completely, definitely and terrifyingly in love with you."  
"I… I'm…" Dominic mumbled, caught out and overwhelmed. "Me too…"  
"Okay. But I said it first."  
Dominic laughed silently, grasping his tee-shirt.  
"Yes, you did… Now, please, tell me I can kiss you…"  
"You better."  
So Dominic did, shyly, but buzzing from an overflowing of emotions. Including the reinforced certainty that no one or nothing would ever make him feel a tenth of what he had already felt in five days with Sascha.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it!  
> I hope you enjoyed reading my fic as much as I enjoyed writing it.  
> Thanks a lot for all the kudos <3


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